


The Criminal's Pet

by way1203



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Dominance, F/M, M/M, Multi, Submission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 54,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/way1203/pseuds/way1203
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty gets a live-in one, just like Sherlock. Although he does lose his temper at times, as long as she abides by three simple rules, he keeps her safe, happy, and well taken care of. What happens when she's given the chance to leave? Will she stay, or will she get out while she still has the chance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His Pet

I rested my head on the back of the tub, and hummed along to the Amy Winehouse song playing through the sound system across the room. My thoughts ran to Jim. I ran my wet fingers through my hair and sighed. He would be home soon and hopefully he'd had a good day.

_Don't keep me waiting._  
_\- JM_

Speak of the devil. He was on his way home and he would be expecting his afternoon cuppa. Thankfully, I'd already prepared a kettle for him with a tray of sugar, cream, and lemon just the way he desired. My phone pinged again with Jim's dwindling patience.

_Do you understand me, Nora?_  
_\- JM_

_You will not be kept waiting. I understand, dearest._  
_\- NM_

I didn't dare hesitate to reply. A week ago, I didn't reply to his text and paid for it when he arrived home. I touched a bruise on my shoulder and flinched when my phone alerted me of his reply.

_Good girl._  
_\- JM_

I smiled.

Jim Moriarty had lured me in a year ago and now I was trapped in his web. I wasn't his girlfriend, nor he my boyfriend. We were…well, I wasn't sure exactly what we were, but we kept faithful to each other nonetheless. Our relationship, if one could call it that, was never built on love. Instead, it was fear. Jim made sure that he was four steps ahead, and that I knew he could kill me at anytime if he pleased. I realized quite quickly that Jim and Moriarty were two men in one. Although I called him Jim, I wasn't in a relationship with Jim. Jim cared. Jim loved. Most days, I was in a relationship with Moriarty. Moriarty ordered, manipulated, and dominated. Moriarty didn't give a flying fuck what happened to me, and Jim somewhat did. Likewise, Jim was the only reason why Moriarty hadn't killed me just yet.

Not a day went by that I didn't understand that I was the criminal's pet. I was here for his enjoyment. He played with me and took care of me, as long as I abided by three simple rules: be ordinary, be extraordinary as well so as not to bore him, and give him female companionship. I agreed without hesitation a year ago because he was attractive and I was in desperate need of extra money and a flat to kip in. (My flatmate had kicked me out to make room for her boyfriend, and my job at the local coffee shop wasn't worth much). Back then, I was ignorant of how difficult living life as Jim Moriarty's pet would prove to be.

Every day, I made sure I was fascinating by being an equal balance of ordinary and unusual. Being ordinary allowed me to be myself. I listened to my usual music, I walked and talked how I usually did. That part was a cinch. Being extraordinary, however, required me to constantly change myself. I went shopping for new clothes at least once a week because, more times than not, Jim would dispose of clothes that weren't interesting to him anymore. (Thankfully, he allowed me to keep my pair of old checkered boxer shorts and an oversized Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone shirt that I wore as pajamas my first night as his pet. He said it interested him how sentimental I was about a "ratty pair of boxers and a childish shirt").

With my style constantly changing, Jim made sure he was able to keep an interest in my body and the way it looked in different clothes. Even my hair underwent changes. I met Jim when my hair was a short, dirty blonde. He soon grew bored of that and I became a brunette, a blonde again, and now I am ginger with hair just past my breasts.

As for sex, Jim remained in control and it never, ever became boring. I did have to uphold my end of the agreement as his female live-in companion by purchasing certain clothes and adult toys that would keep him interested in me in the bedroom on days when my body alone wasn't enough for him. I spent my days doing as he asked, and he approved and continued to make his pet happy. However, the odd day did come about when Jim would not be happy with me. It could be his dislike of a bad dye job from the hairdresser, it could be a stressful client that he would project onto me, or it could be his overall disapproval of the clothes I purchased, or it could be all three.

Those were the days that Jim would lose his composure and have a field day with his pet. Those were the days that were extremely painful and almost always left me with a scar. Regardless of his hot and cold personality, I'd grown to love Jim Moriarty very much. And though he never said it, I was certain that, in his own way, he loved me very much as well.

I sunk deeper into the water, listening to Amy and waiting for the sound of Jim's key in the door. "I told you I was trouble..."

"You know that I'm no good." The voice dripped with venom. I turned my head to the left to see Jim in the doorway. He grinned, "Hello, my darling Nora."

"Hello, dearest. How was your day?"

"The usual. A few boring people with their boring problems. But there was one...one...extraordinary person."

I nodded knowingly. Sherlock Holmes, the man he obsessed over. "The good doctor was with him, I take it?"

"Watson's very predictable," Jim rolled his eyes. "But that's what makes my pet different from Sherlock's. You're not predictable, are you, Nora? Well, aside from the music. And, you really ought to listen to someone other than Miss Winehouse, pet. I'm starting to think you're unhappy with our relationship...that you're being unfaithful to me. Which I know isn't true, _is it_?"

My lips curled into a smirk and I turned my head back to the faucet. I always found it funny how quickly jealousy would set Jim off. A few days ago, it was the way a man eyed me in the street. Today, it was a simple Amy Winehouse song about cheating. It was times like this that I enjoyed having the upperhand for a moment, even if it was in the form of an answer.

Jim unbuttoned his Westwood jacket. "You're not with anyone else, are you? You understand that you're _my_ pet?"

Humming in acknowledgment, I looked down at the remaining suds.

"I said, do you understand, pet?'

I snapped out of my reverie. "Relax, Jim. You mustn't be so jealous all the time. I understand that I belong to you, and you alone and _that_ , dearest, is something _you_ must understand."

Jim crouched beside the tub before I realized how rude my statement was. "Nora..." his dark eyes glared into my hazels. "I'd advise you to watch your tone with me, or have you forgotten _who_ I am and just _what_ I can do to you?"

His hand dipped into the water and touched my inner thigh. I jumped at the feeling of his fingers against an oval-shaped scar no bigger than the size of my thumb left from skin graft surgery. I thought back to that night three months ago when I went out for my birthday. At the club, some man put his hands on my waist and ground himself against me while I was dancing. Jim, who was watching nearby, grabbed my hand and brought me straight home.

_"You're mine. You are my pet! Do you understand? Mine. Only mine, and you're not keeping to our agreement! Sherlock keeps the kind doctor on a loose leash...lets his pet do as he pleases. But darling...I believe you should know by now that I," his lips pressed roughly against my ear, "am not as nice as Mr. Holmes."_

_With a flick of his cigarette lighter, he touched the flame to my tights. I tried to wriggle away but he had me pinned against the wall. He came to his senses only when I'd screamed loud enough. My tights melted to my skin and soon my skin was on fire. Moriarty flashed back to Jim. He frantically put me out. I cried out. He panicked, realizing seriousness of what he'd done._

I didn't want to go through the surgery or feel pain like that again. Without hesitation, I carefully kissed him. Moriarty slowly faded to Jim. His greedy mouth took mine. His tongue forcefully entered my mouth and claimed me as his. I pulled away and stroked his cheeks with my thumbs. "I'm so sorry, Jim. I didn't mean it."

Jim searched my eyes. "Good girl." I knew he knew I was lying. I meant every word of it. I watched him stand straight and walk towards the bedroom. "Now, get out of the tub."

Doing as he said, I opened the drain and reached for the towel I'd left on the nearby hook. My heart pounded when I noticed it was missing. I swore in my head. Why did I have to snap at him like that?

"You won't be needing that pesky towel. Now, follow me, pet. I need to remind you who your _master_ is."


	2. Morning After

I woke up at one in the morning to find Jim's arm draped possessively around my waist. Stirring, I readjusted my position slowly, careful not to wake my partner. Unfortunately, Jim noticed immediately. His hand gripped my hip.

"Where're you going, pet?" His voice was low and groggy.

"Nowhere," I curled into him and rested my head on his chest. "Just rolling over is all."

"Good..." his fingers toyed with my hair. "I chose the perfect pet."

I gave a contented smile. "And I the perfect master."

"Good girl."

When I woke up again, it was half past eight. I frowned at the lack of warmth. Being alone in our bed the morning after was something I was all too used to. Moriarty was the fuck and go type. Unless it was the rare occasion when we made love.

The last time we made love was the night I came home from my short stint in the hospital after he'd burned me. That night, Moriarty was nowhere to be found. That night, I got Jim. Jim took his time with me that night, both of us enjoying our slow and drawn out pleasure. He held me close when we finished, stroked my hair, kissed my neck, whispered how sorry he was, and how much he cared about me and didn't want to lose me. He never said 'I love you'...and he didn't have to.

 _'Jim,'_ I thought _, 'why did I get involved with you?'_

My neck and collarbone felt sore from the actions of Moriarty's mouth. I sat up and surveyed the damage. The down comforter and blankets were pushed off the bed and into the floor, the sheets were tangled, and there were only two pillows on the bed. Metal handcuffs were thrown on the floor as well. (Jim disliked the furry kind because they didn't leave 'decent bruises'). A silicone vibrator stood on the nightstand beside a Hitachi magic wand and a black blindfold. I ran a hand through my hair and pulled the sheets over my bare breasts. Jim and I certainly made a mess last night.

Mess.

Moriarty didn't use a condom. Hell, he never used prophylactics of any kind. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that I'd been keeping up with my birth control pills. Unfortunately, they were the only protection we used, and they weren't always reliable as I'd found out twice before.

Four months into being his pet, I'd had to get an abortion. Three months later, I had a pregnancy scare. As one would imagine, Jim wasn't particularly pleased. When we actually conceived the first time, he threw me into a wall, called me everything from 'fucking cow' to an 'idiotic twat', and wrapped his hands around my throat until I almost passed out. The second time I had a scare, I only told Sebastian and he quickly rushed me to the doctor behind Jim's back. When Jim found out a couple hours later, he threatened Seb and pushed me down the stairs 'for good measure'.

Yes, I was extremely thankful that I'd taken my pill.

I carefully got out of bed, and swore loudly at the pain. Once I reached the mirror, my eyes widened at the sight of my naked body.

"Oh, fucking Christ!"

My neck and collarbone were covered in purple bruises and bites. My hair was a fiery mess around my face. Did I dare look at my bottom? I turned to the side and gasped. No wonder sitting up hurt so badly. My ass was covered in bruises that were an odd mixture of purple, red, and brown. I thought back to the repetitive swats Jim gave to me last night. Being 5'3" to his 5'8" made it easy for him to put me over his knee. My screams affirming that he was my master and I was his pet. He started with his hand, then a wooden ruler, and finally graduated to a riding crop. My breasts also fell victim to the leather tip of the crop, and I had bruises to show for it. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy every moment of it. No wonder I'd lasted this long with Jim Moriarty.

'Dammit, what am I supposed to wear when you've marked me as yours? People are going to talk more than they already are.'

People were talking. Whenever Moriarty and I went out, he made sure I had at least one marking visible in a place where I wouldn't be able to cover it. One time, I had a black eye and stitches in my lip and no one even approached us. I received looks that screamed 'I'm going to call 999' or 'love, get out now' and 'leave him'. But no one dared call on the consulting criminal and I continued to stay with him.

"Miss..."

Sebastian Moran's voice startled me. I carefully placed my hands on my hips. Sebastian had seen me naked more times that I could count. Besides, he was loyal to Jim, and Jim made it very clear that I was off-limits.

"Seb, how am I supposed to go in public today? People will talk! I mean look at me!"

His eyebrows shot into his hair, "Seems that the boss really did a number on you last night? My apologies, Nor—."

"Nora!" Moriarty brushed past Seb and strode towards me, "Why are you standing in front of Sebastian without a stitch of clothing on? Not trying to seduce him, are you?"

I rolled my eyes, "You can't be serious."

Suddenly, our bedroom door shut. I swallowed hard. Sebastian had taken his leave of us. I was fair game.

Moriarty cupped my sex greedily, and began to slip his fingers inside me one at a time. I hissed as he punctuated his sentence with the entrance of each digit. "Oh, darling I am...one hundred percent...serious. I want you to know, Nora, that this is mine."

"Mori…" I squirmed the feeling of three of his fingers inside me. "Moriarty..."

He pumped his fingers in and out of me, "Know that if you dare share this with anyone, even Seb, I will tear the flesh off of both of you... I'm quite handy with a potato peeler..."

I realized then that I'd braced myself against our dresser, my legs opened for him. I was panting like a dog. I came to my senses and whimpered. "Yes...yes, Jim."

"Do you understand, pet?" His eyes narrowed and he removed his fingers.

I gasped.

"Get up."

I did as I was told. Moriarty smacked my bruised bottom and I cried out in pain. It took everything in my power for me not to slap him.

"Get dressed, we have reservations. Although..." he placed his fingers in his mouth, "I could just have you instead. So delectable...and practically dripping so early in the morning...you little slut. I barely touched you. Hmm, I think I'll save you for dessert."  
  


* * *

  
"Sherlock, I'm surprised you haven't noticed."

The curly-haired man looked at his brother. "Noticed what? The pounds you can't seem to lose on the newest diet fad you're trying? Do yourself a favor and eat something other than turkey and ham. You're starting to smell like it."

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "No. I was referring to the company James Moriarty is keeping."

"Sebastian Moran?" Sherlock looked up from his magazine. "Have the two of them made it official yet? The markings on Moriarty's neck were quite disgusting to look at during our last encounter."

"I'll assure you those markings aren't coming from a man."

"A woman, then?" John questioned. "Surely there's no girl out there mad enough to sleep with him."

"There is one. Her name is Nora McNally, late-twenties, and lives with the consulting criminal."

"You're joking."

"I most certainly am not."

Sherlock, who now sat upright, narrowed his eyes at his brother. "How long?"

"A little more than a year."

It all made sense now. How could he have been so stupid? The purple bruises left behind on Moriarty's neck were just a hair too small to have belonged to Sebastian Moran. There was also that ginger hair on the back of Moriarty's suit during their encounter a few weeks ago. How careless his enemy was. Or was he? Maybe he wanted Sherlock to know about the girl. Moriarty was tough to follow, but this...this could change everything. If he could somehow find this girl and question her, oh, the things he could learn about his opponent.

Maybe that's exactly what Moriarty wanted. Perhaps this Nora was simply a pawn in his next grand game to kill Sherlock. Perhaps she wasn't and the consulting criminal actually loved her. Sherlock scoffed. How quaint and careless. He should go after her, find her, question her. But it would be so risky. What if she truly was an idiot? No, no, she was with Moriarty, maybe she wasn't as dimwitted as he believed. She couldn't be, in order to tolerate and keep up with him she'd have to be just as ahead as he was. In that case, she could be a trove of information. Oh, but what if Moriarty kept his home and work personas separate? If she honestly knew nothing, it would be the perfect trap for Sherlock to walk into. He shook his head. No. No. But it would be so worth it if he could get answers. He so desperately needed to get ahead of the criminal this time.

Sherlock's mind raced even faster.

John raised his coffee to his lips, "Are they together?"

"That remains to be unclear. From what I've gathered, while they live together and have been intimate for quite some time, I don't believe they are in a traditional relationship."

"Then why bother to inform us, if they're not together?"

"Don't you think, John?" snapped Sherlock. "Mycroft wouldn't have bothered to tell us about this girl if he didn't think we could use her as leverage against Moriarty. She may be an idiot but she's not completely useless. If we can get our hands on her...oh….Quickly, tell me what else you know about Nora McNally."

 


	3. Shot of Dessert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only own Nora.

 

Moriarty quite literally saved me for dessert. We had almost finished eating at the restaurant, when Jim stood and reached for my hand. Curious about what he was up to, I took it. Without a word, he led me to the women's restroom. I began to wonder if the waiter would notice we had gone. I shook the thought from my head. Of course he would, but he wouldn't say a word. He would leave our food, items, and table alone until we returned. The customer was Jim Moriarty after all.

"Anyone in here get out now."

Moriarty's voice was authoritative. I watched as two women hurriedly ran past us and out the door. A crooked smile spread across his lips. I followed him to the sinks. Moriarty lifted me up and placed my bottom on the granite countertop. I hissed from the pain of last night's bruises. However, that immediately disappeared when he placed his mouth to my neck.

My eyes closed. " _Jim_..."

His tongue traced a mark from last night. His nimble fingers reached up my pencil skirt and pulled my knickers to my ankles. His hands pushed my pencil skirt up my hips. He spread my legs wide. I gasped. His pupils had dilated with want. I should've known I was dealing with Moriarty and not Jim. I watched his head disappear between my legs. The moment his tongue touched my clit, my head rolled back. A loud moan escaped my lips.

Jim stopped to gaze up at me, "Now darling Nora, don't make a fuss. We're in public. Not another peep from you, understand?"

I nodded, "Yes, Jim."

He continued and I bit my lower lip, trying desperately not to moan. His tongue entered me and I squirmed. I felt Moriarty's hands grab my hips, pinning me to his mouth. He worked quickly yet carefully. He knew just when to lick my clit or when to tease my entrance. I found myself getting close quicker than I'd liked to. I took a fistful of his hair in my hands. I was so close. Moriarty stopped. My jaw slackened. He looked up at me, his nose, lips, and chin wet with my excitement. Moriarty stood up straight and placed his forehead against mine. His eyes bore into mine. He knew what he'd done and just what he was doing now. I was too close coming for his taste. Eager to please him and convince him to continue, I flicked my tongue out, giving a quick lick to the tip of his nose and chin before running my tongue against his lips.

"Good girl," Moriarty smiled. "I do believe you've won a prize."

He slid two fingers inside me and teased my clit with his thumb. I locked my ankles around his back, pulling him closer to me.

"You like that. Don't you, pet?"

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from screaming. His pace was quick and I found myself riding his fingers. I felt naughty. I felt like a schoolgirl who was masturbating secretly in the stalls. I bowed my head. With his free hand, Moriarty forced me to look up at him.

"Look at me, pet. I want you to see yourself in my eyes when you come. Don't be loud, darling. We are in public after all."

Not moments later, I couldn't look at his eyes and I couldn't be quiet any longer. I bit down on his shoulder and screamed into the fabric of his Canali suit. As I came down from my high, he slowed his fingers to a stop.

"Noisey little whore, aren't you?"

"Yes...Moriarty…." I sat up straight and tried to control my breathing. "Thank you...for that. That was outstanding."

I watched him remove his fingers from me and lift them to his lips. He stuck them in his mouth, sucking and licking each digit clean as if I were his last meal. Once he was done, he frowned. "You're delicious, pet. But I fear I'm not quite satisfied."

Before I could ask him what he meant, Moriarty dipped between my legs, his tongue eagerly lapping my entrance. I covered my mouth with my hand and screamed into my palm as I endured aftershocks and almost came a second time. When he finished, he stood, wiped his mouth, and offered me his hand.

"Come, pet. I believe our table is still waiting for us."

I hopped off the counter and pulled up my knickers. After I righted myself, I noticed Jim staring at me, all hints of Moriarty melted for just a moment. I smoothed his hair down, then fixed my own. His eyes were still fixed on me.

"Darling," I chuckled, "what is it?"

He shook his head, "Oh, nothing. It's just...you're very beautiful when you come, Nora."

"Jim..."

He closed the gap between us, his lips capturing mine. Shocked, I stumbled backward a few steps until he pinned me against the wall. I kissed him back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body against him. He immediately pulled away.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nora," he shook his head. "I don't...I don't want to take you here."

I couldn't help but smile. Moriarty had no problem eating me here, but Jim didn't want to take me here. I never ceased to amaze me how much of a gentleman Jim could be. I silently wished I could see more of Jim at times.

"Let's go back home."

He grabbed my hand and led me out of the restroom. As we walked back to our table, I found myself getting nervous. Something felt wrong. Jim paid our bill and I got my purse.

"The car's waiting for us, Nora." Jim slipped his arm around my waist. "I'd imagine I could wait until we arrive home. But, after hearing you moan, I'm glad Seb's driving."

I touched his shoulder, "Why is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure I can contain myself in the backseat."

His hand gently squeezed my bottom, then slapped it playfully. My cheeks reddened at his touch, but I still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. We stepped outside the restaurant and a black car with tinted windows pulled up in front of us. The driver got out and my heart stopped. It wasn't Sebastian. Instead, it was a lanky man with dark, curly hair, and a blue scarf tucked neatly into his long coat. From the passenger side a short blonde man with bags under his eyes exited the car. My breath hitched in my throat.

Jim's eyes narrowed and darkened, "Mr. Holmes."

I swore. I was so close to having a much-desired, long-awaited, gentle shag with Jim. Now, if we got home after this encounter with Sherlock and John, I'd have Moriarty either wanting my already sore body, or throwing things all over the flat. Why did Sherlock have to make an appearance now?

Sherlock looked at his enemy. "My, my, Moriarty, I didn't think you were type to use the women's restroom for bedroom matters." He turned to me. "You really should be more careful about where you're biting. You could ruin the fibers of the jacket."

I was speechless. I'd seen Sherlock on the telly and read about him in the paper, but nothing prepared me for actually meeting him. He towered over me, and the way he just spouted his observations surprised me. I was used to Jim's remarks and observations. However, the cocktail of Sherlock's statements and smugness actually made me feel offended and embarrassed about myself.

"Well, Sherlock," chuckled Moriarty, "I was wondering when you would catch me with my pet. I've been extremely obvious as of late. Tell me, did you figure it out yourself, or did you get big brother to help you?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Determining where and when a man like you would have reservations is merely child's play. Now if you don't mind, the three of us really should be going."

"Three of us?" I questioned. Moriarty's arm dropped from my waist. My heart was pounding so loud I was certain everyone could hear it. "Moriarty," I looked at the man beside me. His face was passive. "Jim, what's going on?"

"Now, Nora. Remember what I said? We're in public. Don't. Make. A. Fuss!"

Jim pushed me towards Sherlock and John. A pair of arms wrapped around my waist and lift me off the ground. A hand clamped over my mouth. Without a second thought, I bit down on the palm.

"Ah!" cried John. "She bit me! She actually bit me!"

Moriarty wiped his lips with a smirk. He tucked his hands deep into his pockets.

"No," I struggled, "No! Let go of me! Jim!"

"Oh, enough!" yelled Sherlock.

I felt a sharp prick on my neck and immediately felt numb. My body felt heavy as if my limbs were full of lead. I felt as though my head was in a fog and my mouth was full of cotton. The last thing I remember was seeing Moriarty, his head low, his eyes venomous, as he spoke five meager words:

_"Be a good girl, pet."_


	4. April

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on the chapter when she wakes up in Sherlock and John's. I was going to post it tonight, but it grew to be long and confusing and I wasn't quite happy with it. I'm going to fix it up and when it's ready I'll post. For now, here's a chapter based on when Nora has her pregnancy scare.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support, kudos, and comments!

_Earlier this year: April_

"Nora...what did you do today?"

Jim swirled his wine and stared at me expectantly. We were sitting in the living room. Jim had come home twenty minutes earlier. He'd had dinner with a client, while I had been too anxious to eat something myself. I took a sip of wine. The moment Seb brought me home, I immediately started the iHome in hopes that music would calm me down. But all of the classical and soothing music in the world couldn't quell the anxiety in my chest and stomach. If Jim knew what I'd done today, he would lose his mind.

I swallowed my sip of wine, "Nothing special, just the usual shopping."

"Did you buy anything?" Jim rolled his neck to the song.

My stomach flipped. "Yes. A red cardigan and a black blouse."

Jim laughed, placing his wine glass down on the side table. "Just the blouse and cardigan?" I felt a sense of foreboding. Why did I lie to him? He uncrossed his legs and said, "No devilish skirt or extra tight jeggings to match?"

"No...j-just the blouse and cardigan. I did look at a neck—AH!"

His right hand grabbed a fistful of hair from the back of my head and pulled upward sharply. When did he stand? I cried out again, feeling myself rise from the chair and to my feet. Within moments we were eye to eye. He placed his left index finger to his lips, "Shh, hush now and answer your master. Pet...what did you do today?"

A whimper escaped my lips.

"Ah, ah, ah! That is not an answer. What. Did. You. DO?!"

I jumped at his shouting, "I went out."

His hand tugged my hair again, "With whom?"

"Seb...I went out with Sebastian." I clawed at his hands.

Moriarty cocked his head to the left, "Why, pet? What sort of outing did you two indulge in? I know it couldn't have been a shopping trip. After all, the stores you frequent are not on today's history for the card I got you. Now, what were you doing with Seb? You lied to me, pet. Do I need to punish you?"

His grip tightened on my hair. His eyes were crazed. He would punish me for lying, and not in the sexual way. If I didn't tell him, he would kill me tonight. Then again, he would likely kill me when he found out where I was.

"Moriarty," I begged. "Darling! Please let go. It hurts! Please?"

He let go of my hair and I would have sunk to the floor, if he hadn't immediately pushed me against the wall. He slammed his hands beside my shoulders, trapping me with his arms. "You know what I don't like, Nora?" Moriarty hissed. "When my pet lies to me about where she has been!"

I flinched at the tone and spit spewing from his lips. I cowered beneath him, turning my head to the right. I didn't want to meet his eyes.

He took my chin and forced me to look at him. "Pet, tell me what you were doing. Where did you and Sebastian go? And know that, if you lie to me, I won't hesitate to snap your neck."

My chest hurt from the pounding of my heart. I'd never seen him this infuriated. Moriarty's eyes were a strange mix of rage, jealousy, and pain. My brain continued to scream that he would kill me tonight. Tears stung my eyes and I swallowed the hard knot in my throat.

"Pet?" Moriarty pouted. "Tell your master where you've been."

"Seb...Seb and I went to the doctor."

"The doctor? Well, you're obviously not ill. And you certainly aren't pregnant because, if I recall, we had a very clear conversation about that after we rid you of that last mistake."

I tried not to flinch at that last sentence. _Rid you of that last mistake_. I bit my bottom lip. Before that time, I'd been stupid enough to believe that, one day, if things were right, Jim Moriarty and I would have a child. That Jim would be happy. When I found out that we conceived I was excited, an emotion that immediately disappeared when he lashed out at me. Since that day, the thought of being pregnant with his child has scared me.

I let out a sob. "Jim..."

Moriarty's eyes widened and, for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of Jim. He looked down at my stomach. Another sob escaped my throat when he placed his hands on my hips. He looked back up at me, and for a moment, I was certain Jim would take over. Instead, Moriarty's eyes narrowed then bore into mine.

" _Pregnant_?" He spat. "You went to the doctor with Seb behind my back, because you thought you were _pregnant_?!"

I didn't get the chance to nod when Moriarty's fist struck the wall just above my head. He began to pace madly. I sunk to the floor and collapsed into sobs. I felt like I was going to be sick. I should've eaten today, instead of spending my time fretting and anxiously waiting for Jim to come home.

"We _discussed_ this! You can't be pregnant. Your last period was..." his voice trailed off into a series of muttered numbers. He stopped pacing, "You can't be more than a month late. _Oh no._ " he put his head in his hands and whined, "Nora, sweet Nora, is pregnant. So disappointing? No, so ordinary. How ordinary. Ordinary, ordinary Nora."

It scared me when he did this. When he would pace and talk to me as if he's talking to himself. His manic behavior when I did something or when I said something. The muttering one minute, then shouting the next.

"Nora...Nora so boring!" He cried. "BORING, ORDINARY BITCH!"

I jumped. Searching within myself, I tried to find my voice. I needed to tell him what the doctor said. He needed to know. My lips starting mouthing words, but nothing came out. ' _Dammit, Nora.'_ I swore to myself. ' _You can talk. Talk. Talk!'_ I tried again and this time said, "Jim...Jim, I went with...I went with Seb because...b-b-because..."

I swore again. He loved having the upper hand and now I was giving it to him by stuttering. He knew how difficult speaking was for me whenever I was truly frightened. Therefore, whenever he was in a mood, whenever Moriarty fully took over, he wouldn't stop until I was bleeding, crying, or stuttering, whichever came first. Oftentimes, he loved it when I was all three.

"You stuttering cow," Jim crouched beside me. "You have five seconds to spit out what you need to say. Five."

"I t-thought I was... I..."

He stood straight, "Four."

"I was nervous to t-take a t-t-test here..."

"Three."

"I..I went...we went...and..."

"Two."

"I'm not pregnant, Jim!" I blurted. "I-I'm not. We're not going to have a baby. The doctor...the doctor said it was probably just stress. I thought you would be happy."

"Happy?" Moriarty's eyebrows lifted. "Happy. 'We're not going to have a baby'." He mocked, "'I'm not pregnant, Jim'."

I felt a sharp blow to my side. Before I could sit up, his foot landed on me again, this time just below my ribs. He kicked me one last time and I gasped for air. The feeling of wanting to be sick became a reality. I rolled onto my stomach and vomited on the floor. Wine, bile, and blood dripped from my lips onto the rug.

"Are you quite finished?" sneered Moriarty.

He took a fistful of my hair in his hands and pulled, dragging my body towards the stairs. I screamed. Moriarty grinned. Tears slid down my face.

"Don't fret, my darling pet. I'm just giving you one more for good measure."

We stopped at the top of the stairs. I begged incoherently and raked at his fingers. He let go of my hair. Without a second thought, he raised his foot and shoved it into my back.

"Off you pop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!
> 
> Timeline note: The year is unspecified, however the story takes place in October, as I said in the beginning, it's been a year since they got together.  
> October (previous year): Nora became Jim's pet
> 
> January (the story's current year): Four months into their relationship she received an abortion in the middle of the month.
> 
> April: When this chapter takes place, three months after her abortion


	5. Inquiry Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter because I couldn't keep you all waiting to see what happens at Sherlock's

My eyes shot open. My vision was blurry. Where was I? From what I could see from the windows, the sun was beginning to set, and I could hear the sound of an electric kettle boiling.

"Sherlock, kidnapping is bad enough, but drugging her?"

"Oh, come on! How else could we have gotten her in the car?"

"You could have killed her!"

"Don't be so dramatic, John."

I was sitting on something hard, a wooden chair. Groaning, I tried to wipe my face with my hands, but found that my arms were bound behind me. I blinked a few times, clearing my vision. I was sitting in front of a fireplace, with an arm chair on either side of me. Where was I? I thought about what happened before now. I was with Jim. We ate, had a rendezvous, then left the restaurant. Sherlock and John showed up, then Jim pushed me. I was taken by Sherlock and John, but why?

 _Don't make a fuss! Be a good girl, pet_.

I rolled my head and sat up straight. My vision steadied. Why would Jim push me? I thought back to the day he came home and I was in the bath. He mentioned he'd run into Sherlock and John. Had he…? I thought about the push Moriarty gave me. He planned this. I looked to my left and saw a kitchen where a light haired man stood pouring himself a cuppa. I was in Sherlock and John's flat. Jim wanted them to take me. Did he plan this?

"N-No," I groaned. "No."

John looked at me, and put the kettle down. "Sherlock! Sherlock, she's awake."

Within seconds, a dark haired man walked swiftly from one of the back bedrooms ruffling his hair.

I licked my chapped lips. "May I have some water?"

Sherlock ignored me, but John grabbed a cup from a shelf. I watched John fill the cup with water from a pitcher.

"What do you know about James Moriarty?"

I was startled by the baritone of Sherlock's voice. Turning my head forward, I saw him standing in front of me expectantly.

"Wh…" I cleared my throat. "What?"

"What do you know about James Moriarty?"

I blinked a few times, trying to push away the side effects of whatever he drugged me with. "May I, at the very least, have some water before you interrogate me?"

Before Sherlock could answer, John was at my side with a cup of water. He raised it to my lips and I took a long sip. John was being awful nice. I wondered how often his kindness got him into trouble. I nodded once when I was done and thanked John, who then returned to the kitchen for his cuppa.

"We don't have all day," Sherlock snapped, "seeing as how you've slept most of it away."

I watched John sit down to my left. "Sorry, I don't take well to anesthetics. I always stay out longer than I should."

"What do you know about James Moriarty?"

"Jim?" I looked up at Sherlock, "My Jim? Well, let's see. Jim, he's five foot eight, you know. He likes his tea in the afternoon. In the mornings, he takes a shower before work. He also prefers toast with marmalade spread on half of the bread and a cup of hazelnut coffee with cream and four sugars before he goes. At night, after dinner, he and I each have a glass of wine. He wears boxer briefs during the day and most nights as well. Sometimes he sleeps in nothing at all, but those are on the nights that we fuck." I bit my bottom lip and smiled. "Shall I go on about the way we fuck? He generally likes to top. Occasionally I do, but only when he's feeling generous. Would you like to know the way he looks when he comes, or have I given you enough information about what I know about Jim?"

John looked dumbfounded. I smiled. Jim wasn't an idiot. He prepared me for this. The day Sherlock, or any of his enemies found out about me. I knew exactly what Jim expected me to do. I would spout facts about him and his daily life, nothing too in depth, just surface information. Appear dumb, but observant. When the kidnapper determined I was useless, I would be set free. No ransom. No mess. I would be home within hours if things went according to plan, Jim told me. No one would want to take the pet of the consulting criminal. No one would want to poke the bear so to speak. In the event that someone did, I would be prepared to handle myself. There was talk of Seb being involved if things got messy but he never trained me for Seb's involvement. I would have to be an excellent actress alone to ensure the preservation of both Jim and myself.

Sherlock smirked, " _My Jim._ You say his name so fondly. Are you his girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?" I chuckled. "Now you're being really obvious. Jim and I...we don't like to put labels on our relationship. Boyfriend, girlfriend, it's all so boring. But since you want labels, know that I am not his girlfriend, Mr. Holmes. I am Jim's pet."

Breathing in through my nose and out of my mouth, I tried to calm myself. Boring and obvious. I attempted to use Jim's trademark words to bring myself some semblance of confidence. As prepared as I was to follow through with Jim's kidnapping preparations, I was not prepared for Jim to literally hand me to Sherlock and John. I was not prepared to be drugged during said exchange, and I certainly was not prepared to sit in front of the world's greatest consulting detective and have him scan me with his deducing eyes.

"Pet?" Sherlock shifted in his chair. "That would make him your master, would it not?"

"Yes."

"Are you his sub?"

I stole another page from Jim and feigned a gasp, "Dear me, Mr. Holmes! It's rude to ask a woman about her sex life. Besides, I thought you didn't want to hear about the way Jim and I fuck."

He grit his teeth, " _Answer the question._ "

"Jim is quite dominant, and that extends outside of the bedroom."

Sherlock looked from my love-marked neck to a healing bruise on my wrist, "Clearly."

"Mr. Holmes," I swallowed and lowered my eyes. _Look innocent, look ignorant._ "Mr. Holmes, you should know that he did not force me into this arrangement. I chose to be his pet and everything that comes with being his live-in companion."

"Live-in companion?"

"He admires you, Mr. Holmes. Jim really does. You have a live-in companion," I tilted my head towards John. "He wanted one too, which is why I'm here. He thinks I'm more interesting than John though. To him, my normality is more intriguing than John's. He always says people are so sentimental about their pets. You are very sentimental towards John, you treat him the way a person you love should be treated. I can't say that Jim does the same for me."

John sat frozen, his teacup hovering at his lips. Sherlock's eyes were fixed on me and unblinking.

My cheeks flushed, "I'm sorry. Did I cross a line?"

"Do you love him?" asked John.

"Love whom?"

"Do you love Jim Moriarty?"

I tilted my head and repeated, "Do I love whom?"

"Stop it!" spat Sherlock. "I have been more than patient with you! Now, you will give straightforward answers to our questions from this point on. You don't want to enrage me any more than you already have. Am I clear?"

My heart pounded. There was something about his voice that reminded me of Moriarty. I felt my feigned confidence falter. I couldn't keep up this idea that I could handle being interrogated. I immediately collapsed into a mess of stutters and rambling, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. The question the two of you asked was unclear to me. Asking me if I love Jim M-M-Mor-Moriarty is confusing because he's t-two men in one. Which is why I asked...I asked do I love whom? I love J-J-Jim. I-I-I-I love Jim...I love James very much. Jim is the one who cares for me. But most of the time he's Moriarty. He's the consulting criminal. Do I love Moriarty? Yes and no, I'm not quite sure. But do I love Jim Moriarty, yes."

Sherlock stared into my eyes for a moment before saying, "You're not lying. And you wouldn't you need to, would you? Not when you answered my questions with responses Jim Moriarty taught you. He prepared you just in case you were ever taken by one of his enemies. They would ask you what you know about him and you'd list off innocuous facts. They would ask you how you felt about him and you would be free to tell the truth. After all, it's how you feel about him, not what you know."

I felt like I was going to be sick. He knew. He knew Jim and I practiced this. Of course he knew, he was Sherlock Holmes. The restraints began to irritate my arms.

"Sherlock," John began.

"From the moment you answered my first question, I knew your answers were rehearsed. The only natural answer you gave was when you started to truly discuss your relationship with Moriarty. Your little 'live-in companion' statement. Before then, you spouted a bunch of nonsense that is all true but rehearsed. Why would he rehearse you?"

"Because I'm terrible at lying," I stated. "Jim can attest to that fact, Mr. Holmes. I'm awful at lying and hiding things from him. He figures that if _he_ can tell when I'm lying or withholding information, then whoever takes me will be able to as well. I'm just doing what I was told."

"We all know how much trouble following that phrase can get us in, don't we?" The detective bent at his waist and studied my eyes. "In any case, you're not lying."

"Why would I lie, Mr. Holmes? I already told you, I can't lie worth a damn."

"Yes. Tell me Nora, what happens to someone who can't lie worth a damn when they're faced with the prospect of time in prison?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Excuse me?"

"Moriarty would only take the time to rehearse someone if he was concerned about them leaking information. Someone who doesn't know how to lie without showing it." Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Your eyes, Nora, they tell everything. If you were lying, I'd see it. John would be able to see it. Even someone as ordinary as Mrs. Hudson could see it. Moriarty wanted to take care. You can't lie about your knowledge of Moriarty's web of crimes, because he practiced you and hides things from you. If you did know, you wouldn't be able to tell me, because you're too busy concentrating on hiding your own crimes. Your crimes would spill before his."

I flinched. John's mouth hung open. I wasn't prepared for him to be armed with that type of information. Jim didn't tell me what to do if my kidnapper was armed with information about me.

John looked slightly confused, "Sherlock, what…"

"Come on, John. Don't you see. Nora is hiding something."

"I'm not hiding anything, Sherlock. Jim practiced with me because I'm bad at lying," I shook my head. "He doesn't want me to reveal anything about him. He tells me what he's doing. I'm certainly not hiding any crime web. I don't know what you were implying about prison. I was never faced with the prospect of prison."

"John, fill the kettle with water. At this rate, Nora's pants will combust." Sherlock chuckled. "You know things about Jim, but you're also harboring so much information about yourself it's a wonder that you don't blow right this second. And you do blow, don't you? You clever, clever girl. You put up such a fuss, but when you're threatened…oh, you tell it all, don't you? All I had to do was sharpen my tone and you started stuttering. But, now, I don't care what you know about Jim. I care about those rehearsed answers. It's self preservation for you. Why?"

"Amazing," John looked between Sherlock and me.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Holmes." I tried to play off his comments, "Jim keeps me around because I'm ordinary. He also keeps me because, I'm not sure if he's told you, but I'm excellent at releasing tension. I'm kept because I interest him and because he—"

"No, you silly girl! Sure, he may want you physically, but a man like Jim Moriarty doesn't go into coffee shops to get his own coffee. It was no accident that he asked you to be his 'pet'. You did something to make him want you. And yes, I am well aware of just what you did. Of course Jim is too. How else would he know what to fix for you?" He was beaming ear to ear. "Tell me, Nora, what did you do at University of Dublin?"

My eyes narrowed, "Nothing happened at Trinity College."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unfamiliar, University of Dublin also goes by the name of Trinity College. Please comment and kudos!


	6. Inquiry Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos, I do plan to focus more on the Noriarty relationship after this chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

Sherlock rose an eyebrow. "You did nothing in Dublin?"

"I didn't do anything at Trinity College, no." I squirmed against my restraints. "Really, Sherlock, you ought to at least undo my bonds. This is really uncomfortable."

"Nora McNally, aged 31, graduated with a grade point average of 3.8, went to University of Dublin, or Trinity College Dublin as it's known, graduated with a Bachelors of Arts, and immediately went for your Masters in Popular Literature which wouldn't have taken you long at all. But you suddenly left for London. You're a very clever girl when you want to be. You mean to tell me that you did nothing that would cause you to flee the country while you were receiving your Masters?"

"No."

"So, you suddenly came to England and became a barista because you have a passion for arabica beans?"

Biting my lip, I bowed my head and looked towards the window. I didn't want to say my secret.

"Answer me!"

I jumped at Sherlock's demand, my heart racing. Looking up at him, I shifted in my chair. I felt like crying. "I didn't do anything!"

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak and was cut off by loud, slow clapping. I started.

"She's so obedient isn't she, Sherlock?"

My eyes widened at the familiar Irish brogue and I gave a sigh of relief. Thank God. I'd never been more happy to hear Jim's voice. He stopped clapping and stood beside my chair. Before I could thank him, Moriarty slapped a hand over my mouth.

"Hush pet. Don't make me regret my decision to come for you."

Smiling beneath his hand, I looked up at him and nodded once.

"Good girl." He knelt down and began untying me. "You had her for too long, Sherlock. I'm guessing you weren't able to get any information from her, were you? I trained her to do that, you know, hide information." He smiled and got to his feet, "Oh, of course you know."

Sherlock stared down Moriarty, "I got plenty of information. In fact, she just was about to give me more."

"No, she's not!" He pushed my chair causing me to fall on my hands and knees. "Get up, Nora. We're going home."

"Yes, Jim." I did as I was told and looked from the smug Moriarty to the stone-faced Sherlock. The tension in the room was overwhelming. From the corner of my eye, I saw John, who stood prepared to act on Sherlock's command or any whim he may have felt.

Sherlock's eyes shifted between me and Jim, "I want to know one thing."

"No, I don't think so. You're quite finished with her," said Moriarty. "See this was a test, Sherlock, and you failed. I gave you my pet. I let you drug her and take her away. I wanted to see if you would question her, try to blackmail her, or at the very least do something interesting. She's the easiest person to read, Sherlock. Even ordinary people could read Nora. I wanted to see you read her, and do something amazing with what you found, but you failed." His face pulled into a frown and he rolled his head downward, "You failed, Sherlock. You disappointed me. You didn't do anything. Though I do admit, tying her up is kind of kinky. If you do it again, know that she likes handcuffs."

"Nora—"

"Is an open book and you failed to read her."

"I didn't fail. I read you," Sherlock eyes bore into me, "You said you were a bad liar, and you were a bad liar whenever you spoke unrehearsed words."

"Yeah, she does that. It's so funny." He hung his head, then looked back up, his lips curled into a smile. "You should really see it, Sherlock...the look on her _pathetic_ little face when she thinks she's hidden something from me. She gets all flustered about it," Moriarty stood behind me and brushed my hair to one shoulder. I shuddered under his touch. "I do love the way she looks when she tries to hide things from her master. Anyway," he stepped away from me, "other than being a terrible liar, what else did you deduce about my pet, Sherlock?"

"Nora Eileen McNally, aged 31, five foot three inches, born in Sussex."

"Obvious..."

"Then her parents sent her away to live with her grandparents in Dublin."

"Because...?"

"They couldn't care for her."

"So ordinary. Next."

"3.8 GPA, Bachelors of Arts…"

"Boring!" Moriarty rolled his eyes. "Honestly, that's the best you can do? A few education and aesthetic facts? My pet doesn't have a Master's degree, Sherlock. Instead, she came to London and worked in a coffee shop. Why do you think that is? Think carefully, because I guarantee you whatever you think happened, isn't what my pet truly did."

"I don't have to think, because I know that she was expelled for sexual misconduct."

I folded my arms, "What?"

"WRONG!" shouted Moriarty, then whined, "You're wrong, Sherlock. You're absolutely wrong. I thought you were smarter than that."

Sherlock's brow furrowed, "University records indicate that Nora was expelled due to sexual misconduct with a school administrator, namely a dean. Then threatened several employees if they ever mentioned the affair to higher administration."

"Oh, Christ!" I ran a hand over my face and laughed. "No! Absolutely not. Why would I ever sleep with that old codger?"

Sherlock swore, "Mycroft."

"Why would you...?" I began to realize that the reason why records would indicate sexual misconduct is because Jim fixed it for me when I first became his pet. My laughter died down to a smile.

"Take it you didn't sleep with the dean," said John.

"No. I did nothing of the sort."

"What _did_ you do then?"

I looked at the doctor and smiled, "I did something horrible, but I never got my hands dirty."

"Wait a moment," Sherlock pointed at me. "You denied sleeping with the dean, but you never denied the threats. Who did you threaten?"

"Very good, Sherlock!" said Moriarty. "You got it right."

"Who did you threaten, Nora?"

"I didn't—"

"Who did you threaten?"

My mouth started moving before I even realized I was speaking. "The dean of the department. He was a nasty man. Cold, unkind. He played favorites and those who weren't favorites received unfair grades."

"Pet…" Moriarty hissed through his teeth.

"Students who did their work rightfully, followed assignments to the letter, received low marks. His favorites, who did nothing….nothing akin to his requirements, receiving the highest marks. I couldn't take it. My mates couldn't take it. We planned to go to the Board. The Board didn't do much, gave him a warning. Perhaps it was because the difference in...the difference in grades was a matter of I and II.1. Maybe they would have paid more attention if they were a difference between I and II.2."

" _Nora_."

"My mates were upset and didn't know what to do. I was furious. I suggested we take things into our own hands."

" _Nora."_

Sherlock waved his hand, "Private school must have taught you that type of entitlement."

"It wasn't entitlement!" I hissed. "I earned a grade...I earned a grade that was different from the one he gave me. I turned in assignments that were 80's at the least. As you said, Mr. Holmes, I am a bright girl. You can't tell me if someone received an 89 on paper after they failed to follow instructions and cheated, while you and the remainder of the class received a 61 you wouldn't be upset. Second class honors; first division or not, it's wrong."

John's face turned grave, "My God, what did you do?"

"Nora!" Jim grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards him. I stared up at his darkened eyes and felt fear rise in my chest. I whined at the pain he caused me. He lowered his voice so only I could hear him."I haven't begun to hurt you, Nora. You weren't supposed to say everything this instant. You might as well tell them everything now, pet."

Sherlock cleared his throat, "Are you two having a domestic? Should we leave?"

Jim made an apologetic face, "Sorry, she doesn't know her place. Just one moment." He turned back to me, his hand tightening around my wrist. "Know that when we get home, you're going to pay for ruining Daddy's game with Sherlock." He let go of my wrist and pushed me towards Sherlock. "Tell him."

I tried to calm down, "All I-I-I did was ensure th-that he n-never chose f-f-favorites again. I never got my hands dirty, I did nothing."

Sherlock smirked, "You just orchestrated it."

"What he did was wrong. He had to answer to someone if the Board wouldn't make him liable."

"You killed him?" John raised his eyebrows.

"I never killed him. My mates...my mates..."

"Killed him?"

"He is not dead! I created the email we sent to him, it was a small threat. He got the message, but I wanted to ensure that he fully understood. I told my mates to go to his house, his regular hang abouts, his office, any place he frequents and leave reminders. Written notes, just things to scare him. He seemed unfazed so, to drive home the message, I had my mates wait at his house. From there, I'm not sure what happened, but they brutally attacked him. The neighbors saw their faces." I felt Moriarty's eyes on my back. "As for me, I was in my dorm that night packing, waiting to receive word if they succeeded or not. In the middle of the night, I was brought in for questioning and that's when I found out that they seriously injured him. Of course, I was genuinely shocked that they did that, especially when I never said anything about harming him. I guess their anger got the better of them, and I appeared innocent enough. Dublin police let me go. I withdrew from the university claiming emotional distress. A few days later, I took a red eye flight to London. As I said, I never got my hands dirty."

"But the notes you wrote—"

"Were dictated and not written. My mates typed them. I just told them what to write."

"When they attempted to determine who wrote the notes, they were always typed on someone else's computer." Sherlock pointed at me, "You clever girl." He looked at Moriarty, "No wonder you keep her around. You're perfect for each other."

"She's a good girl when she obeys," Moriarty gave me a glance.

"Hang on," John gave me a quizzical look. "How did they not wonder if it was you? Was it not suspicious that all of the students with lower grades rose against him and were charged?"

"My mates and I weren't the only ones with lowered grades. My mates consisted of maybe three people. His favorites were about five students in a class of fifteen. That's seven students who also received unrightfully poor grades, and had nothing to do with my plan. They lumped me with the other seven students and let me go. Had I been a Dublin native, I think they might have pressed the issue further."

"Now I truly understand why Jim sought you out. Any girl that could have orchestrated something like this over a grade. Now she...she would be interesting. She would be useful."

"What I did was a moment of temporary insanity. I'm not that brilliant as you and Moriarty are all the time. I was desperate and that seemed to be a way to make things right."

"Temporary insanity or not, Moriarty researched you. He purposefully found you, and now you're his. You live as his companion, you do work for him, and as long as you do, he won't tell Dublin who really did it."

Moriarty shook his head, "No, no, no. She doesn't work for me, Sherlock. She is my pet. In terms of blackmailing her, while that would be fun, it's not possible. See, Dublin authorities don't want her. I did search for her because she interests me. I find it fascinating that someone so ordinary could do that. Don't you? She's attractive enough and she agreed to be my pet under a few conditions, and I offered her a flat, money, and sex. She didn't say no. Now if you excuse me, my pet and I really must be going. I need to teach Nora the meaning of _obedience_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not my best, but please kudos and comment. The next chapter should come soon!


	7. Discipline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the next right now. Thank you for the kudos, comments, favorites, follows, and reviews. I greatly appreciate them. Hope you enjoy!

Moriarty said nothing to me from the moment we left 221B, to the time we arrived home. He remained silent as he went up to our bedroom. I followed him cautiously and watched him silently kick off his shoes while loosening his tie. My stomach twisted in anticipation. When he was angry with me, Moriarty was a cobra lurking quietly, waiting for the right moment to attack. When he lashed out, he struck quickly and there was no chance of fighting back. My back grew tense as I sat on the bed and took off my shoes. I stood up to unzip my skirt and take off my top, when Moriarty struck. Within seconds, his hands were clasped around my throat. I struggled against his grip

"It's story time!" His eyes were round, a wide, crazed grin on his lips. His tone was almost sing-song, his voice light and playful as if he were talking to a child. "Have you heard the one about a girl named Nora? You haven't? Well, this story is called _Naughty Nora._ There once was a girl named Naughty Nora, and she was very, very naughty!" Moriarty slowly began to tighten his grip. "Naughty Nora was a good little girl and did everything _The Master_ told her. Well one day, _Sir-Boast-A-Lot_ took Naughty Nora. But The Master gave her special instructions. Do you know what those were?"

I shook my head, clawing at his hands, gasping for some semblance of air.

"Well, The Master told Naughty Nora not to tell Sir-Boast-A-Lot anything." Moriarty's eyes narrowed. His tone sharpened, and he pressed his thumbs against my throat. He shook me, "Naughty Nora had one simple job. All she had to do was not say a _single fucking word_ about her personal life, _that's it_!"

He released my throat and I fell back on the bed, coughing and gasping for air. "Moriarty, please, I'm sorry," I begged. "I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. I promise!"

Moriarty yanked me up and pushed me into the wall. A sharp pain jolted through my shoulder. He covered my mouth with his hand, "Naughty Nora is sorry. Naughty Nora promises not to do it again. **You ignorant bitch!** You think an apology is what I want? Apologizing doesn't get your information from Sherlock. Your past is my secret. Mine, not his, mine!"

"Jim, please," I pleaded beneath his hand. I looked into the face of Moriarty and realized that I was pleading with the devil. His eyes were a dangerous cocktail of craziness, anger, and unforgiving. My eyes stung with tears. "Please..."

Moriarty smiled, "Oh, you're so sexy when you snivel, pet. How should I punish you?"

I couldn't answer. I didn't want to answer. Instead, I cowered beneath him.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair. "I asked you a question, pet. Now, tell me, how should I punish you? How should I punish Naughty Nora, who obviously thinks it is okay to disobey her master."

"I'm sorry."

"We are past 'sorry', pet. Apologies don't fix the damage you have done by ruining my game with Sherlock. If you're going to insist on being a disobedient little girl, then I'm going to treat you like one." He took off my top, then unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor. I opened my mouth to apologize, when he pointed towards the corner. "Kneel until your master can think of a way to punish you."

I retreated to the corner in my bra and knickers and got on my knees. As I faced the wall, I silently prayed that he would calm down by the time I was allowed to stand.

"Knickers down, pet. You know better."

I pulled my knickers down to my thighs so he could see my naked, bruised bottom. His eyes burned my back. I could hear him pacing and muttering behind me.

"Oh, what do I do? How do I discipline my pet tonight? Maybe I should ask Seb to help me punish her. No, she might enjoy that. Not if I make it painful. No…no…. Clearly, spankings aren't good enough. The bruises on her beautiful little ass due to her tongue yesterday, and her fondness of opening that pretty little mouth today prove that spanking isn't enough to teach you to HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" I flinched at his shouting and he stopped pacing. "What have I done to deserve such a disobedient pet? Have I not been good to you, Nora?"

I bit my bottom lip. I felt so embarrassed kneeling in the corner like this. I felt like a naughty girl, and not in a sexual way. If part of his discipline tonight was humiliation, he was doing a good job.

"Why so silent, pet? I couldn't persuade you to close your mouth earlier. Tell me, have I not been a good master to you? I let you leave, I give you space, I buy you nice things, I make you come. Why did you disobey your Jim, hmm?" When I said nothing, he slammed his fist against the wall. "Speak to me!"

"You've been very good to me, Moriarty." I replied.

"Then why did you disobey me, and interrupt my game with Sherlock? Maybe I should make you kneel here all night."

"No! Please! I'm very, very sorry Moriarty. I didn't mean to disobey you. I'm not sure why I've been so insolent these past two days."

" _You're not sure why?_ Well...how about I make you sure that you will think twice before you're insolent again? Stand up, and turn around!"

Doing as I was told, I got to my feet. I let my knickers fall and stepped out of them. My body shook. I was afraid of what he was going to do to me. Why didn't I just shut my mouth earlier? I turned around just in time to see him rummage through the nightstand drawer. A moment later, he removed a riding crop, and shut the drawer with a smirk. I watched Moriarty roll his neck. He placed the crop on the bed, before taking slow strides towards me. His eyes grew darker with each step.

I bit my lip, "I'm sorry, Moriarty. I-I-I didn't mean to."

Moriarty leaned in close to me and whispered, "Not as sorry as you're going to be, little girl."

Nothing could have prepared me for what he did next. Moriarty turned partially away from me, almost as if he were going to walk towards the bed. Suddenly, he whirled around and his right fist landed against my left eye. Things for a moment went black and fuzzy. I sunk to the ground, cradling my face in my hands.

Moriarty tugged at my hair, "Get up!"

I got to my feet and tried to blink, my left eyelid already swelling rapidly. He slapped me across my right cheek. I stumbled and fell to the ground. My left cheekbone throbbed. My right cheek felt like it was on fire. I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. I knew that Jim would stop Moriarty if I cried hard enough.

"Get up, Nora. I'm not nearly done with you yet."

Slowly, I stood and looked at Moriarty. He was sitting on the bed, the riding crop in his hand. I shook my head, "Jim, please..."

He motioned at me, "Now!"

I quickly sat beside him on his right, and draped myself across his lap.

"Do you know what else Naughty Nora gets for disobeying her master?"

I swallowed, preparing myself for the harshness of the crop.

Moriarty brought the crop down on my upper thighs just below my bottom. After five swats, he began to punctuate his words with more strikes to my skin, "Naughty...little...girl!"

"I'm sorry!" My voice cracked. "Please stop."

"You...embarrassed me…Nora McNally!" He continued to bring the crop down mercilessly. When I cried out with each swat, he hit me harder. "The only way...you will learn…to obey…your master...is if I make…you feel...as embarrassed...as you…made me feel. Maybe...I've been...too nice…pet."

I could barely see out of my left eye, and the swats were becoming increasingly painful. Moriarty moved the crop from my upper thighs to my bottom. A tear fell from my eye to the bed, followed by a couple more. I began to sob. Moriarty planted another swat and tugged my hair back so he could look at my face.

" _Stop crying_!" He hissed, swatting me four more times. "You've been naughty…disobedient…and your master's had _enough_! Tell me, who is your master?"

I whimpered. "You are, M-Moriarty. Y-You're my master."

"Who are you to your master?"

"I-I'm your p-pet, Moriarty."

"WHAT DO PETS DO?!" He pressed.

I sobbed, "Obey their m-m-master! You're...you're my m-master, Moriarty."

Moriarty stopped spanking me. Teasingly, he traced the tip of the crop against my entrance. "Spread your legs, Nora. I need to spank your naughty little cunt, too."

"No! Please?"

He stared back into my eye, the riding crop poised and ready to strike me for my disobedience.

"Please, J-Jim," I looked up at him from my right eye and pleaded between sobs. "Jim, p-p-please stop. Jim, I love you. I'm sorry...Jim, please? J-Jim?"

Moriarty's grips on the crop and my hair loosened. He looked down at my body, then at my face. His cruel eyes faded to Jim's gentle ones. "Nora?"

"Jim?"

He dropped the crop, "Oh, my sweet Nora. My darling Nora, what have I done to you?"

I felt like I could breathe again. I was safe. Hopefully Moriarty wouldn't make another appearance tonight. His fingers lightly traced my bruises from last night and tonight. He looked as if he were going to cry. I hadn't seen him look this genuinely upset in months.

Jim started stroking my hair, "Darling, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me I didn't mean to hurt you like this. You know I didn't mean to, right?"

"I know, Jim. It's okay."

"No, it's not! I shouldn't treat you that way." He put his head in his hands. "I shouldn't hurt you. I hurt you all the time. I'm so sorry. I'll try to control him better. I'll try harder next time. Do you forgive me?"

I gave a small smile. "Of course I do."

Jim shook his head and looked at me, "But you shouldn't, Nora. You shouldn't forgive me. I'm a bad man, Nora. I'm so mean to you. I hit you. Look what I did to your eye...and your gorgeous body. I don't treat you the way I should. Oh, darling, I...I need to make it up to you tonight in case I hurt you tomorrow. Let me remind you, no, let me _show_ you how caring I can be. Please? Let me make it up to you. Let me try to undo the damage I've done. Please? Will you trust me?

After a moment, I gave a small nod. "I'll trust you."


	8. Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be a little hectic, but it shows how manic and changeable Jim can be in an attempt to fix the things he's done as Moriarty…if that makes sense. Oh, and there's a some long awaited Noriarty love. I hope you enjoy, please comment, and thank you for your support!

"Do you feel better?"

"Much," I nodded. "Thank you."

After he came to his senses, Jim had rubbed soothing lotion on my bruises and welts, before helping me lie on my side. He asked if I wanted a cuppa, but I declined. I wasn't in the mood to drink or eat. Jim understood. Unsure of what to do, he then took off his shirt and pants, and laid on his side, facing me on our bed. He then took to kissing me gently over and over, pleadingly telling me how sorry he was and how awful he felt for his actions and wondering if I could ever forgive him. When he'd finished with that, he turned on our bedroom sound system allowing soothing songs to fill the silence. Now, as Norah Jones's version of _Love Me Tender_ flowed through the room, Jim stroked my hair, humming and softly singing along. I had to admit, I loved this side of Jim Moriarty, though I wished I was seeing it under better circumstances.

Jim gazed at me, "Nora, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, Jim." I said. "What is it?"

"Sherlock and I have a bit of a problem, pet." Jim pulled me closer, his hands on my lower back. "There's one solution and it's going to require me to move away from London for a period of time. Nora, would you mind very much if we moved to one of my other flats?" His eyebrows were knitted tightly, his eyes pleading like a puppy. "I know it might be inconvenient for you, but it's just temporary, darling."

I was taken aback. Had he really just told me that he was leaving London, while inadvertently asking me if I would move away with him? I took a breath. While I had grown accustomed to coming home here, part of me wondered if a change of scenery would change Jim for the better. Sherlock brought the worst out of Jim, and if he wasn't around Sherlock, maybe he wouldn't spend most of his days as Moriarty and I would get my Jim back full-time.

After a moment, I smiled and said, "I wouldn't mind."

He smiled back, "Oh good. For a moment, I was worried you would mind terribly, and you wouldn't approve."

"I'm okay with moving. London is getting quite—"

"Boring? Yes, I'm feeling the same about now." Jim looked down. "You know Nora, I've...I've grown quite fond of your company."

"Jim."

"No, darling, honestly I have. I can't imagine living without you."

What he said was like biting into square of dark chocolate, satisfying yet bitter. I touched his cheek, "Jim, don't say things you don't mean. It makes it all hurt so much more when you...you know."

Jim's eyes grew wide and began searching mine frantically. His face fell. He looked deeply saddened, "I'm a terrible man. I'm so mean to you that when I say things I really mean, you don't believe me. I'll fix it."

"It's all right, Jim." I ran my fingers through his hair. "I believe you, I just...I'm wary. Shh, darling, you're allowed to mess up."

He hummed gently. "No. No, Nora, I shouldn't do that to you. God, I'm a terrible man. Let me fix it, Nora. Let your Jim fix it for us."

I wrapped my arms around his chest, and placed my head on his shoulder. Jim bowed his head, his tears dripping on my shoulder. This would be the third time in the span of our relationship that Jim had cried. Closing my eyes, I rubbed his back. "Shush, now, Jim. Please, stop beating yourself up."

He sniffed several times, "You're so much smaller than me, Nora, so much shorter. I shouldn't pick on you the way I do. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't pick on a small girl...I should pick on a big man, like Sherlock...or John, but not you. Not my Nora. I'll fix it Nora, I promise."

Jim gave a shuddering sob, I felt my eyes begin to water. I hated hearing him cry. I hated seeing him cry. It hurt my heart more than anything. I began to cry with him. We stayed this way for a few slow songs, our limbs entwined, our heads on each other's shoulders, our sobs blending.

Finally, Jim wiped his eyes and wiped mine. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be crying. You should be instead. I'm the one who hurt you."

"It's okay, Jim."

I'd forgotten how apologetic, maniacally kind, and self-deprecating Jim was, particularly if it was after something horrible he'd done to me as Moriarty. He would apologize for everything he'd done, and do what he could to make it up to me. The first time I experienced Jim, I wasn't sure why he acted this way, but the longer we were together, I began to understand why Jim would go out of his way to make up for the things he did when Moriarty was present. I understood that he would spend his short amount of time in control by treating me how he would normally if it weren't for Moriarty. Moriarty, who would take over without warning. Moriarty, who would take his anger out on me. Moriarty, who would fuck me hard and fast and never take his time. Moriarty, who would punish and hurt me without hesitation.

It was up to Jim to make all of that right in the small window of time when he had control. The weight of guilt and pain Jim must have felt had to be horrible, which is why I accepted every apology, shushed him, and cried with him. After all, it wasn't Jim's fault, it was Moriarty's. Jim was always inside Moriarty, suffering for Moriarty's crimes. And, as crazy as it sounds, I just hadn't figured out how to bring him Jim out more often, so Jim Moriarty could suffer less.

"You're beautiful, do you know that?" He planted a gentle kiss on my collarbone. "You're beautiful, and I never tell you. I never tell...I never tell you." Jim's eyes caught mine, "Nora?"

I gave a small nod, knowing full well what that look meant, and what he was about to ask for. Tonight had been a whirlwind of emotions, and after all we'd been through tonight, he wanted this.

"Do you remember in the restaurant earlier today, when I pleased you? I told you I wanted to take you, but not there. Sherlock spoiled our fun, but now I was wondering if you would still let me have you?"

"Darling…"

"I don't want to go fast. In fact, I...I want to make love to you. I want to make things up to you. I want to fix it for us. Let me start by doing this. Will you let me?"

I sighed, "Yes, but before you start, I want to know one thing."

"Anything."

"When you said you wanted us to move away from London together because of your plan with Sherlock, and you said that you were fond of me, and you can't imagine living without me, did you mean it? Did you really, truthfully, honestly, mean it?"

"I meant every word. Did you mean it when you said you'd move away with me?"

Without hesitation, I smiled, "Yes. I'm coming with you."

I knew if I continued to stay with him, it would be dangerous. I couldn't think of what my life would be like without him. Without Sebastian. As awful as Moriarty was to me, it was worth it for having Jim from time to time, to have come home to someone, to have an attractive man and fantastic shag. I knew that if I stayed, I would get better at bringing him out of his Moriarty mode around me, that one day, I would always have Jim.

His lips pressed softly against mine while his hands drifted to my hips, laying me gently onto my back. The music changed to a version of _Hallelujah,_ and Jim began tapping his fingers against my skin in rhythm. I groaned into his mouth and opened my eyes for a moment. His eyes were closed. His face was calmer than I'd seen it in a while. I kissed him harder, my eyes closing. He trailed his kisses from my mouth to my ear.

"Nora, you're perfect. You're so perfect and I don't treat you that way. I'm so rough with you. I can go slowly. You should know that I can be gentle. I can care. I care so much about you. I want to show you that I meant it, so whenever your Jim says he cares about you, you know he means it."

Jim moved swiftly down my body. His kisses landed on my breasts, my sides, my stomach. He stopped suddenly. "Can I touch you here?"

I moaned inwardly.

"I adore your arousal for me, and mine for you darling. I adore your exquisite taste," he dipped his head between my legs. I sucked in a breath as he ran his tongue against my folds.

My head rolled back. " _Jim_..."

He kissed his way up my body, "I relish my name on your lips...your dulcet tones when we talk over tea. I go especially mad for the way you whimper my name when I make you writhe on our bed. Oh Nora, I want you to know I mean it."

"Fuck...Jim!" Desperate, I released him from his boxer briefs, and listened to him moan.

Jim ran his left hand up my leg to my upper thigh. "This might hurt a bit," he warned before raised my legs across his hip to position himself against me. He stroked my cheek, "May I?"

"Please..." I begged.

I accepted his soft kisses as he started slowly. Jim continued to push himself deeper into me and stopped only when he'd bottomed out. His length twitched and my walls ached for him to continue. I savored the feeling of being full. Jim moaned and I whimpered.

"I want you to know I mean it when I say I care about you. Do you know now? Do you know that I mean it?"

"Yes."

"Do you know that I mean it, Nora?"

"Yes!" I took his lips, moaning against his mouth. Tears rimmed my eyelids. I was desperate for him to continue, "Don't stop, Jim. _Please?_ "

He slowly pulled out a few inches before gradually pushing himself back in. My jaw slackened. I pressed my toes into the comforter. If he kept this up, by the time I came, he would shatter me inside and out. The way he was teasing me and taking his time in a way that he hadn't done in so long made me fully understand why some called orgasms 'little deaths'. After a few agonizingly slow thrusts, he picked up his pace. I felt myself get closer to the edge. His fingers grazed my clit. I closed my eyes and whined. Suddenly, his hips rocked slightly quicker, his fingers nimbly rubbing me between our hips. We rocked back and forth at a steady yet gentle pace. I clung to him, and raised my hips to meet his, the pleasure outweighing the soreness of my bottom. Jim moved his lips to my neck.

"I should take you slow more often," Jim whispered. "I forgot how _good_ this feels."

I moaned, " _Me too_."

" _Nora..._ "

Jim leaned his forehead against mine, and gave his hips a sharp thrust forward. My back arched, my eyes rolled back, my walls clenched around him. I heard myself cry out just as Jim took my lips hungrily, moaning against my mouth as he came. I couldn't remember the last time I felt this good and as my eyes focused on Jim, I knew he felt the same. We came down from our highs with soft smiles on our lips.

Pulling out, Jim propped himself up on his elbows. "Nora, I promise I'll fix it for us. Just please know that I care about you."

"I know you'll fix it for us, Jim." I pushed a sweaty lock of hair from his face. "You always do. Know that I care about you as well."

"I know you probably don't love all of me, and I understand why, but I just want you to know that I care deeply about you here." He took my right hand in his left and placed it against his chest. "Even if my mind doesn't let me show you all the time, know that your Jim cares about you very much, Nora."

My heart pounded in my chest. What Jim had said and the way he said it was equal to, if not greater than, an 'I love you' in our book. He laid his head against my chest, and ran his thumbs over my knuckles.

"I know, Jim." I raised his hand to my lips and gave it a soft kiss. "Your Nora knows how much you care. Understand?"

Jim nodded, "I'm tired, Nora. Do you mind if I go to sleep?"

"Uh-uh. I don't mind. It's been a long day, and we'll talk more about you fixing things, and us leaving London, and all your plans in the morning. All right?"

"All right."


	9. Shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. I've been determining the timeline in comparison to the show timeline, as well as how I'm going to deal with Reichenbach with this fic. I figured it all out and I'm excited to keep writing.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all like this chapter.

 

Jim woke the next morning with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd really done it this time. Moriarty had gone too far and Jim was stuck cleaning the mess, and this time it was a big one. This time was almost as big as the time he threw her down the stairs, but not nearly as big as the time he'd burned her. He'd beaten her mercilessly. He almost ruined their—not relationship, no, that wasn't quite right—whatever it was they had. He could see it in her eyes last night when he'd dropped the riding crop. He'd scared his pet. He'd broken her trust. She'd lost any love she had for him…both of him. And, if he hadn't taken his time last night, if he hadn't had held ice to her eye until the swelling subsided, if he hadn't rubbed soothing lotion on the welts he'd marked her bottom with, she would have lost all of her trust in him. Jim glanced at the window hoping to see a bit of sun, only to find that it was raining again.

Adjusting the position of the comforter on his body, Jim realized that he was very naked. Making love to Nora last night was the best decision he had made in a long time when it came to her. She was the best thing in his life right now. He chose Sebastian long ago, hoping to fill a void, but something was always missing. Then he found Nora McNally. Jim felt the warmth of her body beside him and his racing mind jumped tracks. Nora agreed to run away with him. She agreed to leave everything in London and live somewhere else with him. Jim wanted to wake Nora up, run away with her now, and forget all the nonsense with Sherlock and John. However, he knew deep inside that Moriarty would never allow him to do that. Not until he finished the game.

A sigh left Jim as he rubbed his eyes. Why couldn't it be just him and Nora? Why did it have to be a wretched threesome of him, Moriarty, and Nora? He shook his head. He should stop wasting his time with Nora with thinking.

Jim rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his left elbow. "Pet?"

Nora's back was to him, the blankets pulled up to her waist. Her breathing was deep and even. He wondered if she was dreaming. He hoped that, if she was, it was about positive things. Jim traced a bruise on her shoulder. Immediately, his mind jumped to the night before, and he saw himself throw her into the wall. He pulled back his hand as if he'd been burned. Jim closed his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Nora," he whispered.

Jim placed his lips gently against the bruise. He opened his eyes and kissed her shoulder again. Nora rolled onto her stomach, drew her pillow up in her arms, and turned her head away from him. Jim wondered how often Nora changed positions in her sleep. Most mornings he barely gave her a second look when he got out of bed and dressed himself. He wondered if she felt lonely waking up alone so often. Jim placed a kiss on her spine, then her left shoulder.

Nora groaned, "Jim…?"

He ran his fingers across her skin. Nora turned her head towards him and brought a hand to her eyes.

"Jim?"

"Good morning, pet." Jim placed his lips on her shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

"Jim? Love…you're still here."

The awe in her voice made him sad. Jim brushed a red lock away from her eyes, "Yes, I am."

"Why aren't you at work?"

"Seb is handling a few clients."

"I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Nora propped herself on her elbow, "Did you want to talk about what you said last night? About moving?"

"No," Jim shook his head. "Not right now. Did you?"

"Not really. But I did want to do this."

Jim's heart raced Nora kissed him unexpectedly and passionately. He quickly kissed her back then pulled away.

"Shower," Jim breathed, "now."

Within moments, he and Nora were in the shower. Warm water and steam enveloped the two. Their hands messily felt for each other, their lips sloppily melded against one another's. Soon Nora was bent at the waist, her hands braced on the wide wall in front of her, her legs spread as Jim thrusted into her from behind. A symphony of sighs and gasps filled the bathroom. Neither of them said a word, only moaned and cried out when the other moved in just the right way. Jim squeezed her thighs and listened to Nora's reactions. His hands moved up to her bottom. He slowed his thrusts. Her body shook beneath him as she struggled with her own pleasure. Jim pushed forward gently and leaned forward, kissing the small of her back. He could feel her tighten around him. Nora gritted her teeth, her eyebrows knitted.

"I..." Nora placed a shaky hand to her head. "Jim. I..."

"Come, love," coaxed Jim. "Come for me."

He held her hips in place as her knees buckled. Nora's cries echoed across the tiles. Jim pulled out and turned Nora around, pressing her back to the corner of the large shower. Nora instinctively hooked a leg around his hip. Jim plunged three fingers inside her while kissing her neck.

Nora's head rolled onto her shoulder, "Don't...stop..."

"I didn't plan to," Jim pinched one of her nipples between his fingers.

Her nails raked at his back as she came again. He loved the way she clung to him when he shattered her inside and out. He loved the way her voice went up an octave when she screamed his name. Their lips met again as Jim helped Nora stand straight.

Nora looked up at Jim with a smile, "Thank you for that."

"I hope you liked it, darling. I wanted to fix it for us this morning. I wanted to start with that. I don't please you enough. Nora, I know I never say it, but I want you to know that..." Jim sighed. "I want you to know that…"

"Yes, Jim. What is it?"

"I'm glad I have you here with me." He ran his fingers against the skin on her bottom, "I'm sorry I did this to you."

Nora stood on her toes and gave him a gentle kiss. After a moment, she pulled away and ran her thumbs across his cheeks. "Oh, Jim."

"I mean it. I meant it last night and I mean it now. I'm sorry, Nora McNally. You didn't deserve any of that."

"I'm all right, darling."

"Are you sure? I did everything wrong last night—"

"Jim, I'm fine. Honestly. Just a little sore, that's all."

"If you insist."

"I do insist. Now, let's not talk about last night again. Alright?"

Jim hummed. He watched Nora as he took a body sponge from the shower caddy and squeezed a bit of peach body wash onto the sponge. She held out her hand expectantly, but instead he squeezed some of the sweet-smelling liquid into her hand. Jim ran the sponge across her chest, up her shoulders, and down her back. Nora rubbed her hands together. Slowly, she massaged his chest, spreading the body wash across his skin. They continued to wash each other, all the while stealing kisses. After a few minutes, when Jim began to wash Nora's hair, he spoke up again.

"Pet?"

"Yes, Jim?"

He swallowed and asked, "Would you mind dyeing your hair again? There's this terrible girl I'm working with to resolve my problem with Sherlock, Kitty Riley, and her hair's your color. She's tall too. She's not nearly as pretty as you."

"I see," Nora rinsed her hair.

Jim watched Nora tilt her head back under the showerhead. He found himself being drawn to her body as she rinsed her hair. He watched the water and suds flow around the roundness of her breasts down her flat stomach, and hug the curves of her hips. He knew he was a bit of a flirt if it came in favor of his games, however he made sure he was always faithful to Nora. Even when he pretended to date Molly, he made sure Jim from IT was gay. One, to make sure Sherlock was as observant as his reputation said and two, for the sake of Nora. He didn't want to cheat on his pet. He had no reason to cheat on his pet. Nora turned away from him. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I want your hair color changed," continued Jim. "If you don't mind terribly, I want your hair dark. I've grown tired of the red. You were simply stunning as a brunette last time. Is it alright with you?"

Nora faced him with a grin, "Oh thank God! I thought you'd never ask. I've been hoping you'd let me go back to brown. I was thinking like a Victoria Beckham brown. Sort of dark, but not quite black."

"Pet, you and I have the same mind."

She pulled him into a hug and Jim held her close. This was the only thing Jim wanted when he had control, to make his pet happy.

 


	10. Dual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait, please enjoy!

_Flour, oatmeal, raisins, brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, egg and milk mixture, and pinched-in butter…._

I stood in the kitchen in one of Jim's old dress shirts and a pair of his black boxer shorts, mentally checking off ingredients. It'd been quite a few months since the last time I'd made scones. The recipe had been in my family for generations and Jim Moriarty had a penchant for them. I brushed a lock of my freshly-colored brown hair away from my eye with the back of my hand. Rolling my sleeves further up my arm, I dusted my hands with flour, and pressed out a doughy mixture onto a plastic cutting sheet covered with flour. Jim entered the kitchen in his boxer briefs. He watched me for a moment, kissed my shoulder, then smiled.

"It smells delicious, pet!" He picked a tiny bit of dough and put it in his mouth. "I love it when you bake for me."

I glanced at Jim. "Stop it, you. I just folded in raw egg and I don't want you to get sick."

"You always worry about me." He kissed my cheek.

"I'm supposed to, aren't I? Besides, I can't help it."

Jim turned up the volume on the radio as Gold London began to play my favorite Bee Gees song. He moved his hips and held out his hand, "Dance with me, pet."

"Can't," I began to cut the dough into triangles.

"Oh, come on!"

I let out a squeak as I suddenly felt Jim's hands on my waist. He pressed his hips against mine and swayed our bodies to the rhythm.

_Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around since I was born..._

"Jim," I giggled before straightening myself. "Jim, stop, I'm busy baking. Besides, I always thought you were more partial to _How Deep is Your Love_."

"Come now, pet. You know me." He leaned against the counter. "I'm so changeable."

My hand stopped mid-slice. I felt my smile fade. Deep inside I knew Jim wouldn't last long. However, he did last longer than he had the last time. Two weeks I'd had Jim. Two relaxing and romantic weeks filled with smiles, gentleness, dates, and sex even more mind-blowing than usual. Two weeks with Jim caring for my mental and physical injuries from Moriarty's mistakes, until my body completely healed and our relationship strengthened. Truth be told, I'd seen this coming since Wednesday. It started with a front-page article about Sherlock during breakfast that morning. Jim sat at the table, his coffee untouched, with the Daily Mirror gripped in his hands.

"Darling, you know they're just fairy tales." I'd said.

He gave a small smile and laughed it off. "Yes, you're right, pet. Silly little fairy tales."

I knew that the time I had with Jim was swiftly coming to a close. However, a part of me hoped that by some miracle he'd stick around.

"You know, pet," Moriarty began, his eyes intently watching me place the triangles onto a baking sheet. "That's the problem between Sherlock and me. Staying...alive."

I knew what he meant, but I still asked, "What do you mean?"

"The fall. It's about to begin. But I need a bit of help. I need my pets. My tiger and my kitten." Moriarty moved behind me again, his breath tickling my neck, his hands firmly on my waist. "My playful...sexy...cunning little kitten." Moriarty's hands moved to my bottom. "I've never needed you more."

"Darling, now really isn't the time for that," I warned. "Your scones will never get baked."

Moriarty let go of my body but remained behind me. I set the final scone on the baking sheet and placed it in the oven. Once the timer was set, I wiped my hands on a dish towel. Carefully, I turned around, placed my palms on the edge of the counter, and faced the consulting criminal.

"What is it, darling? What do you mean?"

"That night," said Moriarty, "you remember I mentioned leaving London."

I raised my chin, "I do. What of it?"

"I meant it."

"And you will have me wherever you go. I meant it as well when I said I'd run away with you."

"So you will go with me back to Ireland, pet?"

"Yes, Moriarty." I gave a small nod and shrugged. "After all, you _are_ the reason why I am even allowed to go back there."

Moriarty stroked my cheek, "Good, because I was thinking about staying in Dublin after we finish with Sherlock."

" _We?_ "

"Yes, pet. _We._ "

All this talk of returning to Ireland made me uneasy, and it wasn't because of my own record. Now that we were discussing this matter outside of the bedsheets, I could think clearly. If we were fleeing there, just what exactly was he planning?

Narrowing my eyes, I folded my arms and leaned back against the counter. "What do you need from me, James?"

Moriarty smirked. He absolutely loved it when I called him 'James', even though I usually saved it for grave situations like these, or when he was being particularly irritating. He wet his lips and said, "I need you to help me with one, quite possibly two, things. I need you to help me lure Sherlock in and I need you to help me avoid severe punishment. I know what you're capable of, pet. After all, we both know you left out some very important details during your little discussion with Sherlock."

My breath caught in my throat.

"I need you to do it again. You're the only one I trust with this."

"Sebastian—"

"—is assisting me with other things. I don't want to waste his time on a task that you are more than capable of completing."

"James."

"It will be quick and simple, pet."

"James, you know this," I ran a hand through my hair. "We discussed this when I became your pet. I will _do_ anything you want. I will _be_ exactly what you want. I will be ordinary and I will be _extraordinary_. You would clear my record and my name in Dublin, give me money, a home, your physical and sometimes emotional attention, anything my heart desired. I gave you a condition. I told you I would not do _that_ or anything like _that_ again."

"The terms have changed. Besides, I never agreed to your condition. I merely said that it would be a possibility." Moriarty's grin grew wider. "You were so desperate then. You agreed without my agreement to your condition."

I opened my mouth, but quickly closed it. Moriarty was right. He had me exactly where he wanted me. My eyebrows knit together and I found my somewhat confident exterior faltering.

"Oh, dearest, why the long face? It won't be completely bad. You and I both know that dark side of you is just itching to come out and play again."

A shiver ran up my back. He was right. He was right about everything. I hadn't told the boys of Baker Street everything. Moriarty hadn't agreed to my condition. That deep, twisted part of me had missed being naughty since my incident in Dublin. It was the same part of me that loved Moriarty more than Jim, that sick part of me that made me more similar to Moriarty than I'd like to be. That same part of me that drew Moriarty to find me in the coffee shop that day. My mind quieted when Moriarty picked me up and sat my bottom on the floury countertop. He slowly unbuttoned my dress shirt.

"That naughty little pet who is capable of more than she lets on." His lips brushed against the center of my chest and I couldn't help but moan. "It's been far too long, hasn't it? Far too long since someone has made good use of that brilliant mind of yours."

"Not now, darling." I said, half-pleadingly. "Not until you tell me why you need me to do that again."

Moriarty grinned up at me and said, "If I were a tourist, what would I wear to look positively ordinary?"

"A tourist? A ball cap and trainers, I suppose. Probably some ridiculous jacket. You'd stop and take pictures of police boxes and buildings with disregard for people walking around you." My gaze shifted to Moriarty's eyes and immediately I knew he was planning something dangerously big. "You'd chew gum. You sometimes chew it when you're dressing as someone else for Sherlock."

"Excellent decision. The gum is a given, pet. After all, it will keep the diamond in place, creating a pressure point that will enable me to break the glass."

"Glass?"

"I'm going to steal the Crown Jewels."

At this point, I had to laugh. Moriarty was going to steal the Crown Jewels. Part of the laughter was from fear of what would happen when he got caught. Part was from shock and disbelief, and not because I didn't think he could do it. Moriarty began laughing as well.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" he said. "Of course I won't actually steal them, I'll just sit on the throne and wait for the ordinary ones at Scotland Yard to finally arrive. Honey, you will finally see me in a crown I deserve. Doesn't that excite you?"

That part of me got extremely excited at his idea. I closed my eyes, shook my head, then opened them again. No, I couldn't do that again. I couldn't. I swore to myself I was done doing these manipulations for personal gain. I was done committing crimes. His hand wandered up my leg and made me focus on him once more.

"It excites you, doesn't it, pet? Your James in a crown."

I touched his stubbled cheek, "You know how much I like it when you wear a crown."

"I do. I also know you like this idea, don't you? It feels...so...good to that naughty side of you...doesn't it?"

My breathing grew labored. If he kept talking this way and touching my skin in just the right way, I was going to say 'yes' to being part his plan. He knew exactly what he was doing and it scared me. He knew just how to bring out that suppressed, manipulative side of me.

"Of course, I will be arrested. But, oh!" He feigned a gasp. "I have a pet at home. One who knows just how to get the jurors to vote in my favor." His hands had moved to the apex of my legs and his lips pressed lightly against my left ear. "Will you persuade the jurors to set me free, dearest?"

I wanted his hands against me. I wanted to buck against his fingers, just to feel a bit of relief from the sexual and emotional tension he was causing me. Moriarty always had more restraint than I, and it was apparent from the lack of tenting in his boxers. A groan of frustration left my lips, half from his lack of touch and half from the realization that Moriarty would definitely be beaten during interrogation once he was arrested. He would never tell anyone other than Seb or myself what his plans were. Most times he wouldn't even tell me. They would beat him and, as much as I would like for someone to beat Moriarty the way he does me, I couldn't do that to Jim. A few days of beatings and incarceration would be more than satisfactory for Moriarty, but Jim didn't deserve to spend the rest of his life that way. I would have to find a way to get the jurors to let Moriarty out. In fact, though the crime had yet to be committed, I already knew an excellent way to get the jurors on our side.

"Yes," I said. "I will set you free."

He looked me in the eyes, "Good girl. Very...very...good girl."

"But what about Sherlock's fall? That plan to steal the jewels hardly seems like it will lead to a permanent solution."

"Not to worry. It's just the beginning. Things are going to go very poorly for him, pet."

I felt myself grin and say, "Wouldn't it be excellent everyone believed that Sherlock Holmes was actually a criminal? What if Jim Moriarty wasn't a criminal but just an idea that Sherlock's crazy little mind created?"

Moriarty tilted his head to the left and immediately kissed me. I quickly returned the favor. His right hand cupped my sex. I gasped, hooked my arm around to his neck, and leaned back against the cabinets. Moriarty groaned inwardly. His left hand gripped my outer thigh, then hooked my leg around his waist. A few short pecks led to him gently biting my bottom lip as the oven timer went off. We pulled apart breathlessly, and he placed his forehead against mine.

"What was that for, darling?"

"I was thinking exactly the same thing."

 


	11. Latching On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Nora.
> 
> There is a character briefly in this chapter based off a rude, offensive person I've had the displeasure of meeting. I apologize now for any offense this character may cause.

_October: One Year Ago_

"Iced latte, no sweetener!"

Nora placed the cup on the counter and watched a brunette woman grab it, thank her, and walk away. Nora successfully made it through another busy morning at the coffee shop. With her last cup of the rush sold, Nora gave a sigh just as an attractive man with dark hair, sunglasses, and a tailored suit caught her eye. He'd been sitting in a booth facing her for quite some time. Every now and then he'd look at her, then slowly look away. This time, when he caught her eye again, he took off his sunglasses and placed them in his pocket. His eyes made him even more attractive as he pointed at her and curled his index finger twice.

"Nora, you really ought to go over there," said Grayson. "He's been looking at you the whole shift."

She gaped at her manager, "Why would I go over there? He hasn't ordered a thing, he keeps staring, I have every right to tell him to piss off."

"Easy _Clover,_ " he laughed, "just go see what he wants. He probably just wants to order a cuppa but is odd about coming to the counter."

Nora rolled her eyes. She hated it when Grayson called her 'Clover' or 'lassie'. The often used the names in conjunction with rude, often unoriginal, comments about everything from her heritage to her accent and dialect being more Irish than British at times. ' _You don't sound like you're born in Sussex, lassie_ ', _'You like potatoes, don't you, Clover?_ ', _'At your grandmothers, was there a bog near the yard?'._ There were days when she longed to be hit by a car just so she wouldn't have to work there and endure the harassment. Just one time she wanted a superior to hear the way Grayson spoke to her outside of the inspections and evaluations.

"Grayson, I'm going to take my break now. I'll bring him some coffee."

Nora made a cup of hazelnut coffee with cream and four sugars, before making her way to the table where the mysterious man sat drumming his fingers. As she approached the booth, she realized that talking to a possibly dangerous stranger was better than receiving racist insults.

"Hello, sir!" Nora greeted. "I brought you some coffee."

The man gave a toothy grin and accepted the coffee. "Thank you, Nora McNally."

She watched him take a sip. Her name tag only had her first name. Nora folded her arms, "How do you know my—"

"Mm! Excellent cup of coffee!"

"How do you know my name?"

"I know lots of things about you, pet. Please have a seat. I want to offer you something most people would die for."

"Don't call me, pet," said Nora, as she slid in across from him. "You don't own me."

"Oh, pet." He chuckled, "Nora, you're a very bright girl. I've heard so many things about you. Particularly concerning things you did back home in Dublin." He casually sipped his coffee, then tsked. "Such a naughty little girl."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Jim Moriarty and I can fix it for you, Nora." He leaned forward and whispered, "I can make everything go away if you want."

She stared at him. "How do you know about Dublin?"

"Pet, there are too many ears here. This is something we need to discuss privately. My car is waiting outside. We should continue the conversation there."

"I'm mid-shift," explained Nora. "We just met. I'm not about to leave. How can I trust you?"

"You already do, Nora. I can see it in your eyes. Niceties aside, you would not have brought me coffee and sat here if you didn't trust me."

Nora nodded. If he could clear her name and knew about what she did, she would trust him enough to ride in his car. After all, the only thing she had to lose was her job with Grayson. If Moriarty tried anything, she did have StoppaRed in her purse and could fight back enough to get away.

"Let's get in the car and talk this over," Moriarty suggested. "Don't worry about your job. You and I both know won't be needing it by the end of our conversation."

Moriarty got to his feet and Nora followed.

"Just give me one moment," she said. "I'll be right out."

He watched her take off her apron as he took the last few sips of his coffee. Nora ran back behind the counter, grabbed her purse, and threw her apron at Grayson.

"What are you doing?" He spat. "Your shift isn't over, _Clover_!"

Nora exited the counter and walked towards Moriarty, "Your car is outside?"

Moriarty smiled and held out his hand, "Let's go pet, we have a lot to talk about."

Nora took his hand. The two headed towards the door as Grayson uttered something particularly offensive. As the few customers looked up in shock at the manager's comment, Nora turned back and yelled, "Go fuck yourself."

"He often talks to you that way, doesn't he?" Moriarty led Nora to the running black car.

Nora wiped a stray tear, "Unfortunately."

"Even better then that I offer you this chance." He opened the door to the car. Nora went to get in, but stopped immediately when his fingers brushed against her cheek."He's not worth your tears, Nora."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding as she wiped away the ones rolling down her cheeks.

"As you said, he can go fuck himself."

Nora gave a small smile and entered the car. Moriarty followed, then shut the door as the car drove off. The two of them sat across from each other in silence. After a few moments, Moriarty leaned forward and spoke up.

"You asked me how I know about your record. I'm a consulting criminal. I do things for people for a small fee. I fix things for people. I've known about you for a while, Nora. You caught my interest. If you hadn't already guessed, Ireland is my home as well. I keep tabs on goings on and I have some clients there. I have to say that your name was quite the buzz in the criminal underground. A plain girl, raised by her grandparents, trying to get a higher university degree, ends up with blood on her hands.I know the whole story. I know that you were very unhappy with the dean and his policies and his unfair biases towards dishonest students. How you decided that you would even the playing field by gathering a group of students who, like yourself, had unfair grades. You were so desperate. You tried to talk to the board but they were quite unresponsive weren't they. So while you dictated several threats to your group, they typed them up on their own computers while you set your targets on the Board."

"Stop." Nora bit her lip. "S-Stop it."

"I know that while your group went rogue and attacked the dean, you were too busy blackmailing every member of the Board to attend. From your pitiful dorm room, you managed to threaten each person. If they didn't sack the dean, they would be killed. An empty threat of course. You had no way of killing them, but you made quite a convincing argument. Personalized messages scrolling across the television. Talks of knowing where they go regularly. Brilliant stuff. Brilliant stuff.

"Of course, there would be only person you would kill. The Chairwoman of the Board, a really heartless woman with no family. Just a cat. She was such an easy target. You didn't even bother threatening her. Once the threats had reached the Board members, and you went straight to her house and killed her. You did it cleanly, I will admit. Is it really a poisoning if it's an allergic reaction? To the police, you appeared to have had a simple cuppa with her, a peace offering. How were you to know that she was allergic to the cinnamon in the tea? After all, they had their work cut out for them trying to get to the bottom of the threats against the Board members and the dean, as well as the attack on him. At least you called the police and played the part of distraught student well. The video footage of you crying was very convincing. You looked scared out of your mind. Where those real tears? They looked quite real. You couldn't handle the mess you made, could you?"

"I said, stop it."

"So convenient that the computer you used was overtaken by a virus after the incident. Such a clever girl. You got very lucky. The fact that your group went against your orders really saved you, you know. If they had done what you asked, you wouldn't have had a diversion. You would be in jail. You are very lucky."

"I know that," Nora spat.

"'Student Watches Chairwoman Die', isn't that what the papers read? Rumors circled that you orchestrated everything. You were questioned, weren't you? They thought you were mad when they learned the reason for your threats. You got off on temporary insanity when it came to the dean. They never pinned you to the Chairwoman. But they knew it was you. Somehow they knew. But they let you go. You could never set foot in Dublin again. You can't even fly into Ireland without someone knowing about it. Anyone that can pull off something like that at a school and get away with it, has my attention. I want to fix it for you, Nora. I truly do. I also want to help myself in the process. A little tit for tat, I can be quite selfish."

"How much? How much do you want so I can finally go back there?"

"I normally charge hundreds of thousands of pounds for a job your size. But for you, Nora, you're different. You're not ordinary. Well, actually you are, you are quite ordinary, but that mind of yours." Moriarty grinned. "So extraordinary when it wants to be. I don't want money from you. Like I said, you have brilliance that I'd want to use from time to time. I just need you to do something simple for me in return."

"And what's that?" asked Nora.

"Be your gorgeous, clever self."

Her eyebrows rose, "Excuse me?"

"I want you to be my pet." Moriarty sat back against the seat. "I clear your record, you will live with me. I assure you my home in London is quite exquisite. My home in Ireland is too. I'm thinking of getting one in Belgium."

"James, we just met. You know everything about my past, and I little about you, and you want me to live with you?"

"Jim, and of course. I'm offering you a new life. We both know you'll never get a chance like this again. I know you find me attractive, so that's not the issue. What's holding you back, pet?"

Her face flushed. Jim Moriarty was quite attractive. She would even call him sexy. He was definitely her type physically, and he was showing signs of being mentally her type. She thought back to him wiping her tears. He also had a knight-in-shining armor quality to him as well. However, she wasn't sure of just hopping into his home. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"Oh, I know what it is!" Moriarty laughed to himself. "Silly, Jim. I haven't told you financials. How does a weekly allowance of 8,000£ sound to you?"

Nora placed her hand on her chest, "8...8...8,000£! Are you serious?"

"Just so."

"So, you will just give me 8,000£ a week?"

"Yes, pet. I want you to live with me. I will give you an allowance. I'll have a card made for you. Though, by the looks of you, I know you might not use it all each week. You look very simple. Not to worry, if your taste for finer things expands to match mine, your allowance will grow."

Nora couldn't believe it. A nice home, money she couldn't imagine what it would be like to have, and living with a nice-looking man who can clear her record. She made a face, "What's the catch?"

"All I ask is that you will be ordinary, extraordinary while keeping my interest, and be my pet," explained Moriarty. "If I ask you to do something, I want you to do it. For instance, if you agreed, I'd want a cup of coffee just the way you made it for me earlier. You'd do other household things, maintain yourself and the home. I do bore easily so it may take some work on your part for a month or so, but I believe you are bright enough to get the hang of it."

She grew quiet. Her qualms were starting to fade. Living as Moriarty's pet didn't sound too hard. Being ordinary sounded easy, all she would have to do is be herself. Nora figured could also be extraordinary and keep his attention, especially if he gave her money. She really wasn't in a place to say no. On top of having a clear record, she needed the money and a home. Her flat mate's boyfriend moved in and she was kicked out to make room. Moriarty sounded like a great idea, and she was running out of reasons to decline.

"So," began Nora, "when I live with you, are we...together? Or—"

"Together. We will have a relationship."

"So boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Moriarty shook his head, "I don't do labels, pet. They're so boring and ordinary. But I assure you I will be faithful to you. I expect you to do the same. You will be my pet, after all. We will share the same bed. I do have one question, kind of embarrassing, do you top or bottom and do you have anything I should be aware of?"

"Bottom and, if you mean STI's, no."

Moriarty grinned, "Excellent, then we should get along nicely. I can be quite dominant."

Nora looked down at her hands. "So-So we will be ha-having sex regularly?"

"Yes. Oh! You're nervous, aren't you?"

"Just a bit."

"I'm sorry, I was very forward with that. Silly old Jim. Always so forward. Ugh! I'm sorry, Nora." Moriarty frowned. "Do you forgive me?"

"Yes, Jim. I just figured sex was part of the catch, in exchange for these lovely things you'll give me."

"I don't want it to be that way, Nora. I don't want sex to be an obligation. I want the relationship to feel natural. I will give you physical and emotional attention. I will also give you anything your heart desires. You and I will be together and, like any other couple, you will benefit from the things I have. Of course, I want us to actually care about each other. We both need companionship. I know it will be hard as we just met, but I think we can really get on."

"So, can we kiss?" Nora blurted.

Moriarty blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"

"It's just that I can be a very physical being. I prefer my kisses and sex to be more than satisfactory."

"I see."

"If I'm going to live with you and we're going to do this relationship thing, I want to at least get the awkward first kiss out of the way. I also think we should shag too while we're at it. New partners, everything is so weird. You said you wanted it to be natural, I can't think of a better way to do this."

Moriarty smirked, "I underestimated you, pet. I think you and I will get on quite well."

"Do you agree?"

"I do. If we're going to spend time together, we do need to make sure we're physically compatible."

Nora sat up straight and smoothed her hair. "Great. Let's get this over with."

"That's the spirit."

"You know what I mean. Prolonging it is just going to make it more awkward."

Nora ungracefully shifted to his side of the car, and plopped beside him as the car turned a corner. Once she straightened herself, Moriarty leaned forward, closing the gap between them. Their noses bumped and both chuckled as their lips hovered. Moriarty glanced down at the space between them and Nora tilted her head to the right. Their eyes closed as their lips met. They started out slowly, but soon both Nora and Moriarty parted their lips and escalated the kiss. Moriarty tilted her chin upward and Nora moved closer. She hadn't been kissed this nicely in a while. Jim Moriarty was an excellent kisser, and she only hoped that he felt the same about her. He tasted sweet and bitter and made her heart beat as if she'd had too much caffeine. The kiss felt right. Moriarty's hand touched the small of her back and the two separated for a moment.

"Was that more than satisfactory?" Moriarty asked.

"Yes," Nora breathed.

"Excellent. Do you want more?"

"Oh God, yes."  


* * *

  
Nora stared at the ceiling of Moriarty's bedroom. The car took them to his flat while they spent their time necking in the backseat. When the driver (Sebastian, she later learned) dropped them off, she and Moriarty immediately went inside. For two people who just met, they certainly had a hard time making it to the bedroom. Shoes first, then shirts as they entered the living room. It started with her bent indecently over the arm of the couch, her pants pooled around her ankles while his fingers eagerly explored her. They moved to the stairs where Moriarty's pants hit the floor and Nora teased him until he begged. Neither gave the other the satisfaction of coming. Her bra fell somewhere in the hallway along with his boxers. By the time they reached the bedroom, both Moriarty and Nora desperately wanted to get off. Once on the bed, Moriarty tore her panties and took her as she cried out in relief.

"Are you satisfied, pet?" Moriarty kissed her shoulder.

To say she was satisfied was more of an understatement. Her voice felt hoarse and her body was sore. She never knew that she could come more than once. Honestly, she never had until now. Most men she bedded before could barely make her come. There was no need to fake with Jim Moriarty. He was the right amount of gentle and rough, and she found the spankings exciting. If this is what their relationship was going to be like sexually, she would be in heaven. Nora rolled into her side and faced Moriarty who drew patterns on her skin.

"That was amazing," she sighed. "Fuck, that felt great."

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, "I'm pleased that I could please you. You were very impressive. I assure you, that if you become my pet, we will do that and more next time."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, pet. I have quite an appetite and you are already on your way to becoming quite extraordinary." Moriarty grinned, "Now that we've kissed and oh so much more, do you accept the position of being my pet?"

"I-I have one condition."

"Do tell."

"I will not do anything for you exactly like or similar to what I did in Dublin again. I can't."

Moriarty thought on this for a moment, then replied, "It's a possibility you won't have to. So I'll ask again, Nora McNally, do you accept the position of being my pet?"

Nora studied his features. He was very attractive, amazing in bed, and he was a gentleman in and out of the bedroom. He was also very wealthy. He had everything she needed and wanted. She was desperate right now, and with him, she would be well kept and without worry. However, he was a criminal and chances were he killed people often. She knew that being with him was dangerous, would be dangerous, and would likely end very badly. She had every reason to say no.

"Yes." Nora touched his cheek. "Yes. A thousand times. Jim Moriarty, I will be your pet."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured it was time I told you what she actually did. Whenever I hear "Latch", I think of Nora and Moriarty, so I felt this title was fitting.


	12. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Nora.
> 
> I apologize for the delay. My grandpa passed earlier this month a few days after my birthday and a few days before my college graduation. I now have a Bachelors in English with a Concentration in Creative Writing. I start graduate school in January. Thank you all for your follows, reviews, and support. It means quite a lot actually. This next chapter's a little fluffy and includes light Johnlock. I plan to get to The Reichenbach Fall business after the holidays.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

"John."

John Watson looked up from his computer, "Hm?"

"What is the matter? You've had that pensive look on your face all morning. You only do that when you're thinking very deeply about something," Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "or in this case...someone."

"I'm not thinking about anyone. Just you, that's all."

John swore in his head. He knew he couldn't get away with lies around Sherlock Holmes. The consulting detective was just too clever. Sherlock touched his fingertips together and studied his partner.

"It's nothing, honestly."

"Would that nothing happen to be Nora?"

"I can't shake this feeling that we should intervene."

Sherlock lowered his hands. "You're joking."

John blinked.

"You're serious."

"Does Nora's situation not worry you even the slightest bit?"

A couple of months had passed since the day they questioned Nora, and John couldn't let her go. When he and Sherlock weren't solving cases, out on dates, or having sex, John's mind strayed to Nora. He'd seen all sorts, but Nora was a curious case. She loved the criminal dearly, but the bruises and marks on her skin still haunted him. He understood that Nora and Moriarty engaged in certain types of intimacy, but to him something felt off.

"We don't need to tangle ourselves in the business of an adult woman. Particularly when that woman is in a relationship with Moriarty."

"Even more reason to get involved. We know what Moriarty is capable of."

"We also know that Nora is not a saint."

"You saw the way he treated her and the way she cried—"

"Con artist."

"Sherlock, I mean it. She could be in serious danger."

"John, the only danger she is in is getting arrested. I don't want to entertain the thought of her being an innocent party any longer."

"What about the bruises?"

"Consensual."

"Yes, but to what degree? Things looked pretty bad."

"John, this was weeks ago."

"Sherlock, listen to me. Something isn't right with the two of them. She says she loves him but do you think she's scared to leave him?"

"John."

"Look, I understand her name isn't Irene Adler so she doesn't have your interest—"

"Excuse me?"

"But Nora has mine. I want to help her and I will, with or without your help."

Sherlock placed his violin in his lap and began plucking softly, his right thumb alternating between the A and E strings while his left hand moved up and down the fingerboard. John continued to type on his keyboard, his fingers pounding at the keys wildly. Sherlock placed his violin back on the floor with a sigh. He didn't like it when he and John got into arguments. He usually couldn't deduce his way out of them and there was usually an apology necessary on his part. Sherlock was terrible at apologies. He glanced at the clock. It was precisely a quarter past nine in the morning. Sherlock went to their Christmas tree and retrieved a box the size of his hand. He looked over his shoulder. John was still focused on his computer. No doubt typing an angry blog post about him and the whole Nora situation, using a pseudonym for the girl. Box in hand, he walked over to John's chair and stood behind it. He wanted to give John the box. It was one of his gifts. But he also wanted to apologize, but he didn't want to at the same time. Sherlock shook his head. He was making things complicated. He should just do it before John got annoyed with him standing over him and not saying anything. Sherlock leaned over the back of the chair, placed the gift on his keyboard, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and stood up straight.

"It's Christmas, John," said Sherlock. "I don't want to fight."

"Well that's what Moriarty and Nora are likely doing about now."

"Do you really think she's that unhappy with him?"

John sighed, "I don't know."

"Let's move past them. It's Christmas and I want you to open your gift. I also want to see if I am correct about what you got me."

"Sherlock, I told you not to deduce your presents." John shut his laptop and got to his feet, gift in hand. Now facing the detective, he couldn't help but smile. "This is my fault for putting them out."

"Even if you hadn't, you're terrible at hiding them. Last year was too easy. Honestly John, in the back of your closet?" Sherlock smiled. "Child's play."

John shook his head.

"John, I'm...sorry. Alright? I love you. And-and-and you're right, their relationship has some...questionable instances. I just didn't want to waste our time on it when there are other more exciting cases to solve."

"No, no. You have a point. I shouldn't have let their situation consume me this way. I'm sorry, and I love you, too."

"Now come on, let's open presents. Mrs. Hudson will be in any moment and she'll be expecting us to have on our jumpers."  
  


* * *

  
"This is really pretty wrapping."

Nora bit her lower lip and waited for Moriarty to open his gift. Her light up antlers alternated patterns above her head. Moriarty still had his paper crown on and Seb sat on the ottoman in his Santa hat, both men were in ugly matching red jumpers and pajama boxer shorts.

"I almost don't want to open it."

"Just open it, will you? Before I rip it for you."

Moriarty opened his gift and his eyes grew wide. "Oh, pet, you didn't!"

She'd gotten him the grey limited edition Reiss suit with the Abington Peak lapel. "I had them tailor it to your measurements. It looked perfect for you."

"I should take you right here for this." Moriarty leaned over, and fiddled with a button on her nightshirt.

"Not this second, if you don't mind." Seb smiled. "I haven't had enough nog."

"I'd let you join," teased Moriarty.

She smacked his hand away, "Oh, stop it you! Later. Now, finish opening your gifts."

"Mine can wait, you need to open one of yours."

Moriarty placed his gift to the side and pulled a small rectangle shaped box from under the tree. He placed it in Nora's hand, leaned his back against the couch, and straightened his legs out before him. She knew immediately from the type of box that the gift was jewelry.

"For you, Nora Eileen."

She removed the silver wrapping paper and took the lid off the box. Inside was a Tiffany Victoria platinum pendant with Marquise diamonds that she'd been eyeing. Nora brought her hand to her lips. "James...it's beautiful."

"So you like it, pet? The carat count isn't very high because I know you prefer modest jewelry," said Moriarty. "It looked like you at the store."

Nora looked up at him, "It's absolutely perfect."

Before Moriarty could react, Nora had thrown her arms around his neck. He, shocked at first, hugged her back. She didn't know what to say after the hug, so she kissed him. Eager to feel her lips against his, Moriarty returned the kiss, his hands wandering her waist as he pulled her into his lap. Nora rested one knee on either side of his hips, as Moriarty's hands played with the waistband of her pajama shorts. Sebastian cleared his throat. The two jumped and separated.

"Sorry, Seb," they apologized.

The marksman rubbed the back of his neck. "It's quite alright. Just wanted to remind you two that you aren't alone."

"He's right, dearest." Nora agreed. "This is the second time in a few moments we've gotten too intimate for Seb."

"He's not a prude," said Moriarty, glancing up at Sebastian with a smile. "You've seen us fuck plenty of times, haven't you, Seb?"

"You two are rabbits." Sebastian smiled and continued to disassemble the firearm he'd received from Moriarty to place into the custom designed case Nora gifted. "All I'm saying is if you could stop with the common areas, I would appreciate that."

"Should we include you more?" Nora pouted. "Things are more fun with more than one."

"Now, now, pet. Stop baiting my tiger and turn around. Besides, we both know he's not the type to bite the hand that feeds."

"Exactly," said Sebastian. "I don't mix business with pleasure."

Nora turned around and sat between Moriarty's legs. As Nora lifted her hair, Moriarty unhooked the necklace and fastened it around her neck. She allowed her locks to fall before facing him once again, this time pulling her knees into her chest instead of straddling his lap. After all, there would be more time for that later. Moriarty tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and lifted her chin with his left index finger.

"Now darling," he began, "I got you this necklace to celebrate, not only our second Christmas together, but our arrangement as well. As this new year arrives, there are going to be some challenges for you."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. These challenges come with being my pet and Sherlock's fall. Since you've agreed to be apart of the plan, I need you to know that things are going to be hard and I want to know that I can trust you to stick with me through this and anything after."

Nora knitted her eyebrows, "'Anything after'...meaning when we move to Ireland?"

"Yes. Ireland and anywhere else Sebastian and I may go. Look, Nora, when you agreed to be my pet, you agreed to be with me. I'm not very good at these things, pet. It's so ordinary." Moriarty rolled his eyes and ran his hand over his face. "I guess what I'm expecting and asking by giving you this necklace is...can I trust you to continue to be loyal to me for a while? Things are going to be hard with my arrest and the fall, and in accepting this necklace, I need to also know that you'll be here for me through everything. That you'll stick to your word of being my pet and continue to be mine. That you'll continue to be obedient and loyal to me, just as Seb is. Seb has been with me through many things, I know he can handle the fall. You...you're newer, you're finally accepting your own dangerous abilities. I need to know that I can continue to trust you."

"You can trust me."

"Good because..." Moriarty let out a sigh.

"Because what?"

As Moriarty stroked her cheek, she could see a bit of Jim behind those slightly crazed eyes. She needed to be careful. There was no knowing whether Jim or Moriarty would reply to her. His eyes lowered.

"Dearest..." said Nora, "Jim, what is it?"

He looked like he was going to be sick as he struggled to form the words. "Darling, I...love...you very much."

Jim's eyes had locked with Nora's. Sebastian looked up in alarm. Nora's could feel her blood race in her veins. Her stomach felt like it was lodged in her chest. Jim had just said that he loved her. He  _loved_  her. Had she heard him correctly? The most ordinary words for the most uncommon arrangement of a not-so-relationship relationship. She knew he would likely never say it again, so she took this moment to savor the occasion and say the words she had wanted to say for a while.

After pressing her lips against his, she replied, "And I love you too, Jim. Very, very much."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! I hope everything made sense. I hope everyone had a happy Christmas and happy holidays. I hope everyone has an excellent new year.


	13. Cracked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Nora.
> 
> There's more Seb in this chapter. It's past time for me to delve into their relationship more. I haven't quite decided who I want Sebastian to look like. I'll tell you at the end who I pictured, but imagine who you will.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"I've told you things will be fine. You fret too much, pet."

"Are you serious?" I looked up from my cuticles. "I fret just enough. One of us has to worry about you."

Moriarty rolled his eyes. "Ugh, you're an annoying little cow! Do you ever shut up?"

"James!"

"And stop biting your fingers! It's disgusting."

I stared at him. From the moment I'd gotten up and thrown on one of his shirts and a pair of workout shorts, he'd been short with me. While he stood in the mirror making himself look "perfectly ordinary", he'd been downright insulting. I left the couch and walked toward him. Moriarty picked up his phone and scrolled through the playlist I'd created for him. After a moment, he cocked his eyebrow and kissed my cheek.

"'The Thieving Magpie'. Very, very good girl."

"I aim to please, dearest."

Moriarty shrugged into a beige jacket and I felt my stomach begin to hurt. He was doing this. He was really going to do this. Moriarty was going to send the police into a frenzy with the prison and bank, and wait for them at Tower of London wearing the Crown Jewels. He had all the keys, now he would finally be the king. Then he would be arrested and I would be alone until I successfully helped get him off on his crime. I couldn't ruin this. If the plan went tits up, then I'd likely never see him again.

"You know what to do, pet." He faced me and stroked my cheek. "Are you prepared?"

I nodded once. "I contacted an old friend of mine and, once I get the names of those on the jury, I can hack into their rooms, leaving the message we've prepared."

"Excellent." Moriarty raised my chin. "Now, pet, I know how rattled you can get, and I don't want that happening this time, understand?"

"Yes, Moriarty."

"Everything depends on you. Without a verdict in our favor, Sherlock wins. We can't have that, now, can we?"

"No, we can't." I agreed. I failed to mention how I physically couldn't handle him being found guilty. Honestly, I didn't have to because I was certain he already knew I would be a basket case.

"I gave Seb strict instructions on what to do with you and for you. I don't want anything happening to my kitten while I'm away. Please be a good pet and do as he says."

"I will."

"Anything before I go?"

"James," I took a deep breath. I wanted to say that I loved him. He hadn't told me he loved me again since Jim let it slip out while Moriarty was in control a few months ago. I hadn't told him I loved him again either, only that I cared about him deeply, and other variations of our usual as-good-as 'I love you's. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I raised up on my toes and kissed him. "Please be careful. I will do everything in my power to make sure you'll be home. I need you, darling."

"And I you. Now, I almost forgot, there's one last thing I wanted to tell you."

I was about to ask what it was when Moriarty pushed me against the wall and pinned me there. My breath caught in my throat. I should have seen it coming. He was being far too gentle. Moriarty slammed his mouth on mine. Our lips met intermittently. His teeth bit my bottom lip. I ran my hands up his chest and to his shoulders.

He kissed a trail from my lips to my ear and whispered, "You will remain loyal to your master, understand?"

My head bobbed in agreement. What was he playing at? Moriarty moved away from my ear and caught my eyes. I looked up at him anxiously.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Moriarty," I said.

"Good girl. Well, I best be off."

I watched him walk down the stairs to the front door. He looked up at me with a grin.

"I'll see you in a few days."  


* * *

  
The police led Moriarty to a car, his arms behind his back. I continued to stare at the telly while BBC One newscasters showed footage from CCTV and interviews from people at the scene of his crime. I finished off the glass of wine in my hand, and set it on the coffee table in front of me. If I didn't succeed and Jim Moriarty was locked away for years, where would that leave me? Would I be on the dole? No, not likely. Maybe Moriarty would require that I stay here with Sebastian, expecting me to remain loyal to the criminal until he is released? I sighed and put my head in my hands.

"How're you, Miss?"

I jumped at the deep voice and sighed in relief when I saw Sebastian. Oddly enough it was the marksman who rarely startled me. Moriarty was often the only one that could truly sneak up on me. He seemed to creep into the flat while Sebastian, on the other hand, plodded up the stairs, knowing that he didn't need to be stealthy at home.

Sebastian stood beside the couch, his rifle case over his shoulder, "Didn't mean to scare ya."

"It's fine."

His cropped hair was slightly messy and his bangs weren't slicked back as usual. He threw his leather jacket over a chair. "If you're sure. How are you doing...with all of this."

"Let's see, I'm slowly falling apart and second guessing everything I have in order." I faced the screen again. "I got my flowers. At least I'm not pregnant. With the way we've been mucking about in the bedroom..." I scoffed. "That'd be a  _wonderful_  surprise for when Moriarty returns. 'James, I'm glad I got you off, but you've sired another child. Should I handle things at the doctor, or would you rather just push me down the stairs again?' That is, if I successfully free him. Fuck me..."

"See you've had a good day."

"Sorry, Seb." I softened. "How was work?"

"Nothing particularly interesting happened." He glanced from the bottle of wine to me. "Hang on. Have you moved at all today?"

"No."

"Just sat here drinking and watching the news?"

"Yup," I popped my mouth on the 'p'. "Since the moment my program was interrupted."

His dangerous blues narrowed, "Have you at least eaten something?"

"Bit of toast."

"Christ, Nora. The bottle's nearly empty, and all you've had is toast?"

"What?" I nibbled on my hangnail. "I'm not hungry."

"Here's what's going to happen. Boss wanted me to make sure you're fed. Since you're not hungry, I'll make chips then, yeah?" Sebastian countered and entered the kitchen. "It's not a full meal, but it's something I know you won't say no to."

It was true. He made the best chips, and I usually jumped at the chance to eat them. But I wasn't sure I could eat them today. Between my anxiety and the wine, my stomach was uneasy. The newscaster talked about Moriarty as they showed him swinging a fire extinguisher against the glass, shattering it instantaneously. The strength in his thin arms was something that always turned me on about him. A smirk adorned Moriarty's face as footage of him sitting on the throne flashed upon the screen. Seeing him with the crown on his head made me want him even more. The footage changed back to the picture of Moriarty being led to the police car. I started nibbling at the dry skin on my bottom lip.

"You don't have to eat if you don't want to. I'm still making chips so I can't tell him I didn't try."

"Understandable." I folded my arms, my eyes not veering from an interview with Gregory Lestrade concerning Scotland Yard's plan of action.

"After all, it might help soak up some of that wine." Sebastian scoffed. "You know, Boss was right about you."

"Right about what?"

"'Watch kitten carefully' he says to me. 'She'll be out of sorts'."

I bit a loose piece of skin in the center of my lip and pulled at it until it came off. I hissed as I began to bleed. Moriarty would disapprove if he saw me like this. He would say it was repulsive that I started my self destructive behavior again, but I couldn't help myself. I sucked on my lip knowing that, when I ate the chips Seb made, the salt would sting.

"And look at you, glassy-eyed and pissed as a newt."

"Hey!" I snapped. "I'm not—"

Sebastian stepped out of the kitchen, "Do you really want to tell me you're not even the slightest bit drunk?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. I've practically been your _nanny_  since James introduced you to me as his pet! I think I'd know what you look like when you're intoxicated. And turn that rubbish off." He waved one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. "It's just going to make you more upset."

"Stop shouting at me!"

" _I'm not shouting._ "

Sebastian looked at me for a moment, then did a double take. He swore under his breath, just as my face began to fall. He wasn't fully angry with me, nor I with him. However, I couldn't stop my shoulders from hunching and my body from shaking. My eyebrows knit tightly together. I let out a shuddering sob.

"Oh, no, no. Please don't cry."

Why did I let Jim Moriarty affect me this way? Why did I drink so much? Why I did I get upset with Seb? The couch dipped beside me as Sebastian's arms pulled me into his chest. He smelled like a bit of gunpowder and cigarettes.

"I'm sorry," I pulled away from him. "I'm sorry, Seb. I'm such a mess…"

"Oh, monkey," said Seb. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You know I'm not mad at you. I just don't like seeing you this way. It's not like you, drinking like this. Boss wouldn't want you like this."

I tried to talk, but all that came out was a blubbering mess of sobs. He held me close again, this time resting his chin on the top of my head. He shushed me. I continued to cry. My fears for Jim and sleeping alone for the first time in months, my anxiety about messing things up, the upset I'd had towards Moriarty for leaving me the way he did, my anger at myself for drinking too much and allowing myself to cry this way, it all came out. After what felt like ages, I pulled away and looked Sebastian square in the eyes.

"I think I'm ready for those chips now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed. I wanted Nora to be a bit off in this one. As for which actor I pictured Sebastian to be while writing this chapter, I'm partial to Craig Parkinson


	14. Unstable Stability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Nora.
> 
> I apologize for the wait. The last few months were hectic. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Richard Brook. How ordinary."

I skimmed the fake resume I'd created for Moriarty, checking for errors. Everything was as it should be. With this and the newspaper articles made by Ms. Riley, Moriarty wouldn't exist. To the world, his image would be associated with Richard Brook, an actor in children's programs. But Sherlock would claim it was Moriarty. John Watson wouldn't know what to believe, and it would be glorious. I touched the pendant around my neck and reminded myself that my master would be home soon. That is, if I'd done everything the way I was supposed to.

I set the resume aside and turned my attention to my laptop. I began to type furiously, my legs folded, my eyes darting all over the screen. A few windows were open and I kept multiple tabs up in my internet browser. Each window served its purpose: one for threats, one for the names of the jurors, and one for accommodations and room numbers. All the tabs had personal information for each juror: photos, family social media pages, phone numbers. All of this was done extremely carefully. Moriarty would be livid if I were sloppy and got myself found out. I typed inside an encrypted chat box and waited for a reply from a friend.

"No, no, no," I shook my head. "Evie, come on."

She couldn't find the last juror and struggled to keep our connection steady. My stomach began to hurt again. Since Jim Moriarty's arrest, my stomach had bothered me. I ate a bit every day, but almost always had to chase it with seltzer water or suck on a ginger candy afterward. As satisfied as a part of me was to get back into my old naughty habits, my ordinary half was unbelievably worried, and the stress of ensuring Jim Moriarty's return was starting to take its toll. I waited patiently for Evie to answer. I felt my stomach lurch and swallowed bile in the back of my throat. If she couldn't find the juror, I didn't dare think of what Moriarty would do to me. A message popped up with the final name and my stomach pains eased.

"Oh yes, Evie! I love you."

Evie, of course, was not her real name. She'd been flying under the radar since she'd "accidentally" hacked into Ireland's government mainframe while we were still in our twenties. Today, she'd provided me with the names of the jurors as repayment for a previous favor. She also had the codes I needed to infiltrate each juror's telly and only their telly. I sent her a message reminding her that she would receive a very naughty postcard or email from Jim and me once he was off. She replied with a wink emoticon and requested that it come on her birthday or for Christmas. I smiled as Seb knocked on the door frame, causing me to start.

"What is it?" I asked, glancing at the time. A quarter past five in the morning.

"Miss," Seb cleared his throat, "he needs a suit."

 _What the devil is he talking about?_  I thought, but instead asked, "He?"

"Boss."

I stopped typing and stared at my screen. Realization struck me. Boss needed a suit.  _Moriarty_  needed a suit. Of course he would need a suit, he was going to court. He would be tried for his crimes. He would need something to wear. I'd kept track of time and lost track of time while Moriarty was away. I knew how many days I had left until the trial for the purpose of freeing him, but not for the purposes of making sure he was properly clothed for court and assuring that the flat and myself were ready for his return. My stomach dropped. I swallowed bile again.

"Miss, are you okay?"

If I allowed myself to fall apart the way I did the first night, I wouldn't be able to pull this off. I gave a small nod, "Erm, yeah. Of-Of course I'm okay. You should take the one—the suit—I got for-for him."

"Which one is that? You've bought him a few."

I set aside the laptop and went straight for Moriarty's closet. I tore through the racks of thousand-pound suits, past the Versace, Canali, Westwood, Armani, and Corneliani, searching for that grey suit. All of them smelled distinctly of him and made me miss him sorely. I continued to rummage through it, searching for something that would work for Moriarty in court. Then, I saw it. The Reiss suit I gave him for Christmas.

Sebastian walked carefully towards me, "Miss."

"I've got it, Seb." Lifting the suit from the rack, I held the suit out to him. "Take it."

"What?"

"The suit. Take it."

"Are you sure about this one?"

"What do you mean 'am I sure'? Of course I'm sure. I bought him this one for Christmas. It's limited edition. It's special or something. Bring him luck or something, yeah?" I shook the hanger. I could feel myself beginning to crack again. "Take it, Sebastian. He's going to need it."

"Alright." Sebastian carefully took the suit from my hand and headed for the door. "I'll make sure this gets to 'im. Oh, and just so you know, I'm driving you to the trial tomorrow."

My gut ached. I knew Moriarty wouldn't want me there as my face would likely give away my fear, but I knew Jim would want me there. I returned to my position on the bed without a word.

"We'll leave around seven."

"Oh no, I'm not going." I stated matter-of-factly. "I thought I told you."

Seb stopped in his tracks, turned back around, and fixed me with a look of disbelief.

"Don't look at me like that."

His jaw tightened. "What d'you mean you're not going?"

"Seb, don't be stupid."

"Excuse me?"

"Look at me!" I snapped. "Look at the flat! Look at this room for that matter. Do you really think I should go to the trial?"

Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed Seb scanning the room with his hands on his hips. "Oh, monkey."

 _Oh, monkey_  didn't cover the half of it. Clothes covered the floor, the sheets and pillows were everywhere, plates and cups covered both nightstands, crumbled papers were here and there along with pens. The trash desperately needed to be taken out in the bathroom, and there were towels on the floor and products strewn all over the counter. My appearance wasn't much better. I was exhausted and it showed in my eyes. My hair needed a touch up, and I needed a shower and to shave. I didn't want to think what the other rooms looked like.

I sent the final threat, then typed my thanks and goodbyes to Evie. Once we disconnected, I closed everything and clicked on a program in the corner. The screen went black, then switched to a blue error message. I shut the laptop and handed it to Seb.

"All done?" He asked.

I nodded, "Get rid of this, please."

"Yes, Miss." He took it. "Y'know, you ought to hire someone to help you clean while you take the day to rest."

"You know I can't do that, Seb."

I got to my feet and began to gather my dirty clothes and towels. Part of me contemplated just throwing them away and buying some more. After all, he would expect me to have new clothes when he returned. Then again, he would probably check my card history and see the frantic spending the date before his trial and know I'd fallen behind. No, I'd just wash everything. Doing laundry would be easier than stressfully shopping.

Sebastian sighed, "Should I call someone to fix your hair."

"Great idea." I said. "What color do you think he wants?"

"To be honest, Miss, I think you should leave it. Allow it to go back to your natural color."

"I'll think on it. Now leave me alone, Seb. I have a lot more work to do before he gets home... _if_  he gets home."

My stomach dropped at that idea and I resisted the urge to vomit again. My naughty side had taken over for far too long, and now my ordinary half was taking over. I brushed past Seb, heading out of the room and down the hallway towards the laundry room. I felt myself begin to cry.

"You did what you could, monkey."

I stopped in my tracks. I didn't face him as I said, "What if...it doesn't work? What if all of this was for nothing...if-if-if I didn't free him?"

The sound of his footsteps grew closer and closer until they stopped behind me. His hands rested on my shoulders. I allowed myself to let out a sob. I needed Moriarty to come home. I needed to finish cleaning. I needed my worrying to end. I needed to vomit. I needed Jim to make love to me again. I needed Sebastian to wrap me in his arms like a child and kiss my forehead and tell me I was fine. I needed to get ahold of myself so Jim Moriarty wouldn't come home to a disaster of a pet.

"You'll be fine," said the marksman. "Boss...he trusts you. Hell, he loves you."

"Don't say that," I sniffed. "Doesn't help."

"You and I both heard him that morning. He was very clear. James loves you, even if he won't admit it, he does."

"What if I can't free him, though?"

Seb turned me around. I looked up into his sharp features and suppressed another sob as more tears stung my eyes. He squeezed my shoulders. "He wouldn't've trusted you with this or kept you around this long if he didn't think you could handle things."

"What if he doesn't come home?" I dropped the clothes. My body shook with sobs and the tears in my eyes spilled over onto my cheeks. I waved my hand and shook my head, looking around the hallway at everything but him. "I don't want—I can't start over. Seb, where will I go? What if he doesn't….then, what will I do?"

"Then,  _I_  will take care of you," said Seb. He ran his thumbs beneath my eyelids. "I promised James I would, and I don't intend to break that promise. Now, stop your fretting. He'll be home soon. You'll pull this off. You'll free 'im."

"I hope you're right."

* * *

Sebastian was right. As of an hour or so ago, Jim Moriarty was innocent. I paced the floor of the flat. The scene on BBC One changed from inside the newsroom to previous footage from outside the courtroom. Sherlock and John had looked rather upset at the verdict, though I was ecstatic. All the work I'd done wasn't for nothing. The threats I'd made seemed to scare the jurors into believing that Jim Moriarty was innocent. Now all I had to do was wait for Seb to bring back Moriarty, and then I could worry about the "Final Problem" later. I'd cleaned the flat and made everything look just as it did when he'd left. I'd even managed to sleep for a few hours. Aside from my hair color, my overall appearance was acceptable enough for his arrival. I sat on the couch with a huff. Where was he? How long did it take for one to come home after exoneration?

"I'm glad we paid Sherlock that little visit. He needed to know we're not quite finished with this little game of ours."

Hearing his voice again after so long made my heartbeat jump. I got to my feet, smoothed my hair, and stood by the couch. The door shut.

"I trust you took excellent care of my kitten?"

"Yes," said Seb. "She was a bit of a handful, cried a few times, but other than that she was fine. She worked very hard to free you."

I heard the two climb the stairs and felt my face turn hot. Jim Moriarty stopped at the landing and looked up at me. His lips pulled into his crooked smile and for a moment I thought it was Jim. Then he smirked and I realized it was Moriarty who'd arrived home. I braced myself as he ran up the remaining stairs and walked quickly towards me. I couldn't tell what he was feeling. Maybe I should have changed my hair or at the very least touched up my roots. Moriarty slammed his lips against mine with such force that I stumbled back and almost fell back over the edge of an armchair. I regained my balance and kissed him back. I wanted to tell him how much I'd missed him, how it was hell without him, how worried I was. I wanted to ask him if he was okay and if he'd missed me. Instead, I smiled beneath his mouth and grabbed at his belt. Moriarty broke the kiss.

His lips hovered over mine, "You...oh, you naughty little bitch. You did it."

Moriarty kissed me again. This time his hand slipped past the waistband on my pants and cupped my sex. A sigh left my lips. I felt myself ache for his touch. He teased me with his fingers and I moaned inwardly. I'd missed his touch. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Seb making himself scarce. I fumbled to unbuckle Jim's belt.

"You've been a very good girl, pet," Moriarty kissed my ear, "and now you've earned a reward."

I consented. Moriarty gave a wide grin. I eagerly allowed him to drape me over the arm of the chair. He yanked my pants and knickers down. With a moan, I widened my stance. I needed this just as much, if not more, than he did. Moriarty gripped my hips. He entered me sharply, causing us both to cry out in relief when he bottomed out. Neither of us spoke. Our hips slapped together. Our groans and sighs filled the room. Moriarty continued to thrust at a quick yet steady pace, until both of us reached a much needed release. Once we were done, he cleaned himself off and righted himself.

"Sit down, pet," he ordered. "I'm not quite finished with you."

I did as I was told. He zipped up his pants and got on his knees in front of me. He pulled my pants completely of my legs and tossed them aside. His hands rubbed my inner thighs. I closed my eyes and prepared myself.

"Thank you, Nora McNally."

My eyelids shot open. I looked down at the man between my legs and caught his calm eyes.

"Jim?" I asked.

He nodded.

I wondered how long he would last this time. Given how long Moriarty was in control, I was pleased to see Jim. I hoped he would last. Jim seemed to be around much more often these days, and that was a good thing for everyone.

"You got me out of there, and I am very, very grateful to you for that," said Jim. "I-I've missed you so much, pet. You have no idea."

I touched his cheek. "I've missed you too, Jim."

"I just wanted to thank you properly and, if you don't mind, I want to thank you improperly as well."

"Please."

"Lean back and relax, alright?"

I did as he asked. Jim lips moved from my thighs to my womanhood. His skilled tongue traced letters against my clit. I ran my hand through his hair. Jim was always much better at letters and taking his time than Moriarty. Jim could stretch pleasuring me this way into an hour long event, edging me and rewarding me until I shattered. He slid two fingers inside me. He pumped his hand a few times and added a third finger. I hissed.

Jim stopped and made eye contact. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No. Just...don't stop."

Pleased, Jim continued his work. With each pump of his fingers and move of his mouth, I felt myself grow closer.

"Jim, I..."

"Yes, dearest?"

I couldn't answer. He curled his fingers inside me and stroked my spot. My eyebrows knitted. I bit my bottom lip. Jim replaced his tongue with his thumb. I couldn't take it. Jim smiled up at me, watching me intently, waiting for me to come. Seconds later, I did. My eyes closed. I moaned loudly, crying out as Jim carried on. I apologized to Sebastian in my head, knowing that my orgasm was louder without a pillow to stifle it. I gripped the back of the chair as Jim slowed to a stop. Before I could thank him, he kissed me briefly and leaned his forehead against mine.

"Thank you for freeing me, pet."

 


	15. Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Nora
> 
> I apologize for the wait. I've been dealing with some mental health issues, but I'm doing a little better lately.
> 
> I decided it was time for Moriarty and Nora to have a conversation about Nora's "naughty side". This chapter is a bit nutty.

"How do you feel about children, pet?"

I raised the remote and muted the program while Jim faced me and waited for my answer. I caught sight of his eyes and knew that I was once again dealing with Moriarty. That's what I got, I guess, for just wanting a simple day of sitting on the couch and watching something mindless.

"You're serious?" I scoffed. "Moriarty, you've brought it to my attention a few times that you aren't interested in children. You made it very clear that last time."

He laughed for a minute then waved his hand. "Not for us. There's some kids that are in need of traumatizing."

"And you thought I'd be good for that?"

"Yes."

I folded my arms. "You thought wrong."

"Alright. I'll have someone else take care of it."

"Right. Good. But make sure, if you're planning to properly traumatize them, that you make them ingest some form of mercury. Probably with some candy. Kids tend to eat candy without hesitation."

Moriarty looked taken aback.

"What? I'm only saying." I leaned my back against the cushions behind me and faced forward. "Knowing you, you'll want to do something entirely fucked. Nothing's more fucked than making children ingest mercury. Show 'em a picture of Sherlock while you're at it. That'll really traumatize them, and then you'd have killed two birds the first time 'round."

"Goodness, pet. I've underestimated you."

I glanced over at him and asked, "How so?"

"You're even more mad than I once thought. Maybe it's for the best that you never had those children."

My jaw slackened. How dare he? He _knew_ that was a sore subject. I swung my palm towards his cheek. Moriarty reached for my wrist but was too late. I'd managed to slap him hard, harder than I had in awhile. "Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit!"

His cheek turned a splotchy red. I brought my hand to my mouth, not to gasp, but to stifle my urge to apologize. There was nothing to be sorry for. Moriarty more than deserved it.

"Wow!" He rubbed his jaw for a moment then grinned.

"What the devil are you smirking for?"

"She's still in there."

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

"She's still hanging onto you, isn't she?" asked Moriarty with a smirk. He pulled me closer to him and stared into my eyes. "That naughty little Nora is still in control...even if it is just a little bit."

I pulled away from him with a scoff. "What?"

"Nora would never slap me, call me a piece of shit, and then swiftly tell me to go fuck myself. She's too afraid of what I would do in return. But that naughty Nora? Oh, she's a ballsy one. She's still lingering after freeing me, isn't she?"

My throat felt tight. He was right. I thought I'd shaken that feeling that came when she was in control when I broke down in front of Sebastian for the second time. Apparently, I hadn't.

"Isn't she?" repeated Moriarty.

"Possibly."

"Possibly, or absolutely?"

"Slightly."

Moriarty leaned into me, "You've missed her. You like being her."

I gripped his collar and slammed my mouth on his. I had missed being her. I had liked being her. I missed the devil-may-care way I went about things when I was 'naughty'. I missed the sweet, twisted fairness about how I did things. I missed messaging 'Evie' for favors. I missed that part of me that craved Moriarty over Jim. But I didn't miss the stress that came after I'd been that way for a while. I didn't miss how horrible I felt after I'd been 'naughty'. I pulled away from Moriarty and shook my head. "Stop. I'm not in the mood for a ride right now. Stop it!"

"Me? Jesus, pet,  _you_  were the one—"

"James, stop talking! Don't...just...stop saying those things, James. I know what you're doing. You're egging her on or something, you're trying to pull her out. Just stop because when you talk like that, when you mention the trial, it gets her off. She wants you and I need you to stop talking because I can't...I don't know how to control her."

Moriarty looked at me with an expression I'd never seen before. His eyes held awkward blend of understanding with just a bit of concern. "Alright."

I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. "You know, it feels like it's been ages, but I know it hasn't. The last time I was like this, the last time I was her, was in Dublin. You weren't there for Dublin, love. You don't know how much hell happened after she was gone. When she left me standing in that kitchen, looking at the mess that I'd made, that I'd done to that woman. It was fear, and it was panic, and thank God they saw how cracked I was, because it wasn't an act. I lost it that day. And then you asked me to do what I did to free you. You brought her back. Being with you—both of you—it's made me fight with myself. I'd felt it before, increasingly since I've been your pet, but never so much as when you were gone. I would work to free you and then I'd have to fight myself to keep going. It was maddening and I surely thought I'd done it this time. That I'd completely gone 'round the bend. I've never been her around you before, it's always just been me. Ordinary, boring me. But, now, I don't think I can get rid of her as easily as before. What's going to happen when I'm her around you and you don't have something horrible for me to do? I don't even know who I am fully when I'm her. I just know that I tend to do awful things. You don't get how scary that is! What if I—she—decides to kill you? Or what if...God I sound batty."

Moriarty's fingers brushed across my cheeks. I hadn't realized that I was crying. "No, you don't, pet. Besides, I think if anyone can get how scary it is, it's me. I have a naughty side, the one you know as Moriarty, and a good side you know as Jim. So I think I can understand that internal struggle you're having. I wondered something about you when I picked you, and I was right. Pet, it's time you understand you are a dichotomous person too. You have someone else that takes control and makes you do things. Just like you prefer Jim to me, I prefer your naughty side to you. Or, rather, what I've seen of your naughty side."

"Wow. Just when I thought you were being caring, you say something like that."

"Oh, pet, don't be like that. I'm only being honest."

"No, no. It's fine. Besides, I've noticed that I'm just your ragdoll."

"That's one way to put it. You're sort of a plaything. That's why I wanted you." He shrugged. "Though, you knew that. That's what you agreed to when you agreed to being my pet. I have to say, I'm glad we're having this conversation as me and not him because too many emotions would get in the way and, with you blubbering like a child because you're discovering yourself, one of us has to have our head on. I do like watching you lose it, pet." He chuckled. "It's so funny to watch you go a little crazy. I wish I could have seen you try to free me. Must've been so entertaining. Now, as for your naughty side, she's like me. She understands why I do what I do and loves me for it. She wanted to free me. She worked hard to threaten the jury and swing things our way. She's interested in the final problem between me and Sherlock. She understands why Sherlock needs to die much more than you do."

I shook my head, "You're wrong again."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I want Sherlock gone as well. If he's gone, then Jim will be around much more often."

"You really think so?"

"Aye, I do."

"You shouldn't be so sure about that, pet. Although, Jim  _has_  been awfully persistent lately. He's always trying to be the one to talk to you. That's probably because of how much he loves you."

"I know. He told me on Christmas."

"I know!" Moriarty shouted. "He forced me to say it! As I said, I don't love  _you_.  _Her_ , it's too soon to tell, But Jim? He's nutty for you. He'd run off right now, forget fuck all about Sherlock if it meant he could be with you forever."

"I know and I'd...I'd..."

"I know you would, but you can't.  _She_  wouldn't allow that. She'd miss Moriarty too much."

"N-No, she wouldn't."

"She would miss me. The sooner you recognize your other half, the easier things will be." Moriarty lifted my chin and tapped my temple. "She's in there. For both our sakes, listen to daddy, and stop suppressing her."

I chewed my bottom lip at the thought of giving up the control I had over my other half. I didn't want to stop suppressing her. I  _couldn't_  stop suppressing her. I didn't want to think about Jim having to deal with my other half. Then again, if Jim was around, I could just suppress her and allow her to take over when Moriarty was back. That would at least get me through the fall. But what if it wasn't that easy?

"Ugh! You're doing it again. I hate that!" He gestured at my face. "Stop that! It's so unattractive." I stood up and began pacing instead. Moriarty followed me with his eyes. "You know you wouldn't have anything to be anxious about if you just named her and accepted her as part of you. That's what I did with Jim. She's not going away anytime soon and it'll help you keep things straight mentally. You should call her by your middle name. I absolutely despise the name 'Nora'."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh! Of course you do! You hate everything about me, is that it?"

"No, no," said Moriarty. "Not  _everything_. I wouldn't have picked you if I hated everything about you. I don't hate your eyes, those breasts—"

"Stop it!"

"You're no fun!"

I made a face.

"Fine!" Moriarty got up and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Honestly, Nora, just accept Eileen. Stop pushing her down. You're so much more beautiful when you lose control."

"And if I say no?"

"Then you're going to make things harder for yourself."  
  



	16. Comparison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I only own Nora.
> 
> I apologize for the wait. As I mentioned previously, I spent the majority of the semester being evaluated and sorting out myself out. I'm just now feeling better enough to write again. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I tried something new. I appreciate your patience!

 

"How did he get off? How? How did he get off? Well, we know how, but how? Oh!"

"What?" John had watched Sherlock pace the floor for the past hour. He could practically see and smell the gears and cogs working in his partner's beautiful mind. John put his tea aside. "What is it?"

"Oh! That's good. I thought it would be too obvious but...oh!"

"What? I'm going to need more information to go off."

"I believe your interest is to blame, John. Can't you see it? It's Nora."

"Do you seriously think her capable of something like this?"

"No, which is why I'm certain it's her!" Sherlock sat in his chair and leaned forward. "Well, I at least know she had something to do with it."

"I'm sure you have evidence."

"Why are you so uncertain all of a sudden? You wouldn't shut up about her and now—"

John shook his head, "I don't think she'd be into criminal activity."

"Dublin—"

"Was a long time ago. She didn't get him off on a crime, Sherlock," John argued. "Just cause she's with Moriarty doesn't mean she's equally evil."

"Oh, John," said Sherlock. "Don't be so simple."

"I'm not being simple. I just believe what she told me."

"What she told you?"

"Yeah, I ran into her at the bookshop the other day."

* * *

_"Can we go yet?"_

_The voice made John prick up his ears. He peeked around the corner to find Moriarty and a woman who looked like Nora in the middle of the next aisle. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was her, only her hair had changed since he'd last seen her. Moriarty was watching Nora, who was intently reading the inside jacket flap of the book in her hand. He had his back against the shelves, and his hands shoved in his pockets. She placed the book back on the shelf. Moriarty sighed. John could tell she was growing impatient with his impatience. She picked another book off the shelf in front of her, skimmed the back cover, then placed it back. The sight both confused and intrigued John. He positioned himself so he could continue to watch without being seen. After all, the sight of the criminal and his pet in Foyles was an unlikely one that he would not miss for the world._

_"Pet, this is the third bookshop we've been to," complained Moriarty._

_Nora apologized and touched his shoulders. "I couldn't find what I was looking for at the last places, so I figured I'd be able to find it here. Just ten more minutes, I swear."_

_"You said that twenty minutes ago."_

_"I know, love. I'm sorry. You've been such a good sport today, even eager to help me at times. All I'm asking is that you please tolerate this just a bit longer." She stood on her toes, "Please?"_

_Moriarty groaned._

_"Please James?"_

_"Oh, alright."_

_Nora squeaked and kissed him. "Thank you!"_

_"Pet, could I at least go to another section?"_

_"I'll text you when I'm ready. Alright?"_

_"I picked the perfect pet."_

_"Uh-huh."_

_Moriarty gave Nora a quick kiss then walked past her, exiting the aisle from the furthest end and leaving her to the self-help shelves. John returned his attention to the shelves he had been searching before. He'd just found the book he wanted when someone collided with him._

_"I'm sorry," he apologized._

_"So sorry!" Nora cried._

_"Hang on, Nora?" John feigned surprise._

_She blinked. "John?"_

_John continued his charade by tightening his jaw. "Is he...?"_

_"Yes, he just left. Oh goodness, is Sherlock here?"_

_"No."_

_"Good. Good, for both of us, really. I'd rather not have a scene between them here."_

_John nodded once in agreement. He wanted to ask her about her involvement in Moriarty's trial. It'd been bothering him since they received the verdict. He needed an answer, just as badly as Sherlock._

_"What is it, John?" Nora tilted her head. "You look like you're holding back."_

_John lowered his voice, "I am. Sherlock seems to think you had something to do with Moriarty's release. I know that's not true. You wouldn't do that, would you?"_

_She bit her bottom lip._

_"Because I told him that you weren't capable of something like this. Am I right or wrong?"_

_"Does it really matter? Regardless of whether or not I'm capable, we both know this thing between our partners will need to result in 'the final problem'." Nora dropped her air quotes with a roll of her eyes. "And in order for that to happen he had to be free, and he could have done that with or without me."_

_John studied her for a moment, then said, "Alright."_

_"Is that all?"_

_"Yes. You know, it's interesting to see you two being so domestic."_

_"I thought you said—"_

_"I was asking if he was in earshot."_

_"Oh, well then. So you were watching us?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Were you fascinated?"_

_"You with a man of his caliber, relaxed, it's just so…"_

_"We can be very domestic when the situation presents itself. As for relaxed, I spend a lot of my time with a marksmen as well. But, for you, I can see why it's like a dog on hind legs." Nora smiled. "Now, if you excuse me, I have someone waiting for me."_

* * *

"So you had a run in with his pet, and you actually believe her?" scoffed Sherlock. "Honestly, John. What is this faith you have in her? Her statement that Moriarty could do it with or without her is not equivalent to a denial."

"I know that." John pressed. "Sherlock, I could just tell. It was written all over her face. Nora did not free him."

"John, she knows how to talk her way around giving actual answers. Had you pressed her for more information, she would have told you that she was responsible for his release."

"Sherlock, stop."

The detective watched his partner enter the kitchen. He wanted to press the issue further but opted not to. At least not today, and not until he was ready to tell John about his own encounter with Nora.

* * *

_A pair of pumps echoed across the tile and slowed to a stop beside Sherlock._ _The detective didn't bother to look up. There was a thump beside him on the lab table._

_"Are you fully aware of the amount of germs typically found on the bottom of a handbag?"_

_"Oh, how I've missed you. How are you, Mr. Holmes?" Nora asked. "I hope you're well. It's been some time since our last meeting. I've only stopped by for a moment, just to say 'hello'. Bart's is a very interesting place for you to spend your time, isn't it?"_

_"Moriarty's company is an interesting place for you to spend yours." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I ask that you don't question my whereabouts as I don't question yours. What are you doing here?"_

_"I was only sent here to test something." Nora sat on the stool next his. "Where's your pet? You usually keep him so close. I hope you two aren't having any problems. I'd hate to think it's my fault. John seemed rather taken with the idea of saving me from James. Well, at least his face showed it."_

_Sherlock's eyes caught hers for a moment before they returned to the microscope. "John is working, as am I."_

_"Aww. Oh, well. Maybe it's for the best. After all, I'd rather John not hear the little talk we're about to have."_

_The detective said nothing._

_"Aren't you curious as to what I want to talk about?"_

_"Honestly? No."_

_"That's awful rude of you Mr. Holmes," Nora began, "especially since it's concerning your death."_

_Sherlock sat back from the microscope and turned his head toward her. The voice was Nora's. It was coming from her mouth. However, the woman who was speaking from Nora McNally was not Nora McNally. There was something in her demeanor, the way she walked in, the way she spoke. She was definitely much more sure of herself, almost to the point of cockiness, but she was not the woman he interrogated months earlier. He wasn't entirely sure what was different about her. There were superficial changes from their previous meeting: her hair was darker, she wore joggers and a simple shirt with her pumps, she had no makeup. But there was something in her eyes. She didn't look breakable or fearful like the woman tied to the chair in his flat. She almost looked dangerous._

_"That's more like it. I'm here to discuss the fall with you. It seems the only way for me to live out my life with Jim is if you are no longer in the picture. This...this fall that Moriarty has planned, your death absolutely has to occur. Well, it's going to occur. And before it does, I just want to express how sorry I am that it has to be this way. I don't think John deserves the pain he's going to feel in terms of your loss. You know, if things were different, I think we'd be mates of sorts. Meeting for bridge or drinks, discussing our not-so-ordinary jobs. But unfortunately, it can't be that way. In order for me to live truly happy with the mad man I've chosen to spend my life with, you have to die. And if James can't succeed in this with his plans for your fall, you must know that I will not stop until your pulse does the same."_

_Sherlock smiled to himself. Her threats were still as empty as when they'd met. He took this opportunity to remind her of this. "You should leave the intimidation tactics to Moriarty. Now if you excuse me—"_

_"Who said I'm threatening you? I just want to make sure your understand the inevitability of your fall. I need you to die. Whatever Moriarty has planned, it needs to succeed, because..." Nora lifted her bag off the table. "Nevermind. Just know that if Moriarty fails, your life must end so that mine can begin." She got to her feet and started for the exit._

_Sherlock scoffed._

_Nora stopped. "What?"_

_"Your life can begin as soon as you leave Moriarty."_

_"Do you honestly think I'd be better off?"_

_"Perhaps." His eyes burned her back. "Do you?"_

_"I did once. But it's not that simple anymore. Things aren't always black and white, Mr. Holmes. There's always a murky area, isn't there?"_

_Sherlock said nothing but, as Nora left, he continued to sort her out from her toes to her tone. He placed today into his mind palace, and archived her features. Something wasn't right._

* * *

Sherlock closed his eyes and recalled Nora's appearance on that day. He would get to the bottom of her and prove to John that she, like Moriarty, was not innocent.


	17. Come On, Eileen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience. Depression is a beast, to say the least. This one was interesting to write as I got to explore Eileen just a bit more. I hope it was worth the wait!

Moriarty sat at the kitchen table and watched Nora pace in the sitting room. She was mumbling to herself, shaking her head, rubbing her hands together. He could see Nora changing. He'd noticed it for a while now, since that day he came to her and asked her to help him with the fall. He saw that spark in her eye, that flicker of something much more dark. He brought another spoonful of mushroom soup to his mouth. What if this side of his pet was more than he could handle? He mentally shook his head. No, it wouldn't be more than he could handle. If anything, Eileen would be able to match Moriarty. It was Jim he needed to be concerned about. What if Nora wasn't the one around with Jim and he was left to handle Eileen? Maybe that wouldn't be a problem and Eileen would only come up when he needed her to. What was Eileen like anyway? Maybe he could just fuck it out of her. That always seemed to work whenever something bothered Nora, and Eileen seemed so eager for his attention. Maybe tonight he would try it. Even if rough sex wouldn't bring out Eileen, it would at least relax his pet. He'd never seen her so tense and out of sorts.

Moriarty gave a sigh. "Have you decided pet?"

"Decided?" She stopped pacing. "What do you mean, decided?"

"Whether or not you're going to continue suppressing Eileen."

"I can't let her out. She'll ruin things! I...care for you too much to let her ruin this."

"I don't think she will."

"Of course you don't. You'd benefit from her. You won't have to deal with her taking over. Besides, I think it'll be better if I save her for the big things, like Sherlock. And I have an idea. You know how you're planning on Richard being in an awful flat with that Kitty girl? Sherlock knows about me, he knows you and I are together and he's going to come after me for answers for John to believe him. He'll be wanting Nora, but I figured it might be better if he finds Eileen instead. In order for that to work, though, we'll have to prove you're Richard and I'm Eileen. So..." She grabbed a piece of newspaper and handed it to him. "How's this?"

Moriarty looked at the paper, his grin widening by the second. "Oh, it's perfect, pet."

"I know."

His face fell. "I suppose this means we need Jim to take over?"

"Obviously. He's docile and innocent."

Moriarty remained quiet and watched Nora, who took his silence as rejection and began to clean the kitchen. Her mental and physical exhaustion showed on her peeling and split lips. The knot of hair atop her head was a mess. Two buttons on the top of her dress were fastened in the wrong spots. Overall, her appearance wasn't up to her usual standard. She appeared distracted. As much as she had tried to hide it from him, Moriarty could tell she was at war with herself and that his pet was definitely not winning.

Jim was clawing at him, dying for release, aching to get a chance at Nora. It was starting to become painful to choke him down. He ate another spoonful of soup. Maybe being Jim again would be more beneficial for Nora, particularly if Eileen wouldn't be needed until Sherlock was around.

"It won't be for long, dearest. Sherlock should be coming around soon, within the next week or so. Do you think you could let Jim take over for that long?"

"It's not that easy, pet." Moriarty suppressed his urge to roll his eyes. His pet really was so simple at times.

"I know," said Nora.

"But I can try. He _has_ been particularly annoying to suppress as of late."

"I understand, and I don't take that as a yes or a no, but thank you."

"Now, now, pet. Don't get too excited. I need you to do something for me if I'm to let him out."

"What do you want?"

"Oh, you're not that thick. You know what I want."

"Eileen?"

"Of course. I want to know what it's like with her. Besides I know she's still hanging about from that visit you took to Bart's."

"How did you…?"

"You were so obvious about it. I knew exactly where you were going. I want Eileen now, or no Jim. Even if your little plan for Sherlock is brilliant."

"That's hardly fair!" Nora frowned, bringing the side of her thumb to her mouth. "I can't control her that easily. I can't summon her just cause you snap. You said yourself it's not that easy to let Jim take over. You can't expect me to..."

Although his pet continued to talk, Moriarty didn't hear her. Her voice grew muffled to him, and he found it difficult to concentrate. Moriarty watched her nibble on her cuticle. Her voice repeated in his head. _Snap_. _Just cause you snap. You can't expect me to...just cause you snap...snap._ He rolled his neck.

 _'Don't_ , _please!'_ warned Jim.

Moriarty ignored him and slammed Nora against the wall. She whimpered beneath him. The fear in her eyes excited him. With one hand against her shoulder, the other just beneath her chin around her neck, he kept her pinned where he wanted her. He was careful not to hold her neck hard enough to choke her. He didn't want marks to show if they were going to fool Sherlock. Any signs of abuse on Nora's body would surely tip off both the detective and the good doctor.

 _'Stop! You're hurting her! Leave her alone!'_ Jim pleaded.

"Moriarty, please..." Nora begged. "Stop…"

_'Let her go!'_

"Shut up!" His yelling, directed mostly at Jim, affected Nora just the same. Both cowered at his tone, one shrinking deeper inside of himself, the other shivering beneath him. "I don't care if you think it's unfair. You will do exactly as I asked because you are my pet, understand?"

"Yes, Moriarty," said Nora.

"And what do pets do?"

"Obey their master."

Moriarty tightened his grip on her shoulder. "One more time, pet. I don't think you fully understand. What do pets do?"

"Stop it. Shut it."

"Excuse me?" He loosened his hold. She couldn't have just said what he thought she'd just said. "I'm sorry, I must not have heard you correctly. My pet would never–"

A sudden, sharp pain knocked the wind out of him. Moriarty couldn't think for the throbbing radiating from his groin. Had she really kneed him? The cool wood of the kitchen table beneath his cheek managed to distract him as his member ached. He made a mental note that his pet had decent aim. His arms were pulled behind his back. Nora's fingers struggled to hold his wrists in her grasp.

He let out a laugh. "Oh, Nora, my darling pet, you've made an unfortunate decision."

"Have I now?"

He stopped. He noticed a lilt that often pronounced itself when she was fatigued, agitated, or mid-orgasm after he'd teased her for too long. Except this time, her tone had an edge, almost as if she were daring him to speak. Moriarty knew without a doubt that he was no longer dealing with Nora. Had he really coerced Eileen out of her so easily? She had to have been on the brink if all it took was his usual dose of abuse. No, it couldn't have been that. Moriarty pushed the thought from his head. He'd determine the reason eventually. For now he'd done it. Moriarty smiled.

"What is it?" Eileen dug her nails into his skin. "Having a laugh to yourself? Think this is hilarious, don't you? This is not a game, _James_."

Moriarty's heart pounded at the way she said his name. _Is this how Jim feels about Nora?_ He wondered. Jim refused to answer, too terrified of the situation at hand. Moriarty knew that the answer was an affirmation. His pants felt too tight as his member twitched for her. He wanted to have Eileen. This side of her proved to be so much more enticing than Nora.

"You've got me, pet." He swallowed hard. "Now, be a good girl and let me go."

She released his hands and Moriarty rolled onto his back. He looked up at the woman. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips had pulled into a determined line. Confidence radiated from her as she straddled his stomach. She captured his hands again, this time pinning them above his head. He smirked to himself. For such a tiny little thing, Eileen almost looked dangerous. It was a sight that made Moriarty ache that much harder for her.

"Would you like to have a ride? After all, we _are_ in the perfect position. Just a bit higher with your hips, Eileen. Let's have a taste."

Instead, she allowed her mouth to hover over his. When he lifted his head to close the gap between their lips, she sat up straight. "I won't give you the _satisfaction."_

"Fucking tease."

"I know. Besides, we have to prepare for Sherlock. I need Jim. I don't want _your_ manhood interrupting the plan _we_ created."

Her use of 'we' intrigued Moriarty. It interested him that Eileen was so quick to recognize her other half, yet Nora was so resistant. It made him ponder his own dichotomy. If Moriarty was correct in his self-assessment, he was the resistant one, not Jim.

"You will not ruin this. As I stated before, I need Jim for our plan. If Jim is here, he'll keep Nora calm until Sherlock arrives when I can take over again. He needs to see Jim with me in order for that newspaper clipping to be plausible. Nora can't handle it, neither can you. We both have to give a little for this to work. Understand?"

Moriarty wanted to argue, but Eileen had a point. He could see how she managed to have classmates do tasks for her in Dublin if she was this diplomatic about things. As much as he didn't want to, he agreed to let Jim take over.

"Good boy. I'm glad you see things my way. Now, as for our current predicament." She glanced down at their position. "I will not be sitting on your face. I will not allow you to have sex with me tonight. That said, as much as I hate using my body for leverage, I feel it will benefit both of us if I do so."

"Oh?"

"If you do what's asked of you when Sherlock comes over for our play date, I'll let you have more than a taste." Eileen purred. "I guarantee I'll make it worth the wait. You have no idea how long I've waited to truly have you, Moriarty. Sex is not the same when Nora's in control, I assure you."

"How is it different?"

She whispered a combination of words in his ear that aroused him that much more. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.

"Shh, there, there." Eileen patted his cheek. "You're such a naughty little boy. Always so desperate. All it takes is a few little words to wind you up. Give me Jim until then, and all of that will come true. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Aww. You look so pitiful." Eileen placed her hands on either side of his head. "You may kiss me."

Moriarty didn't hesitate. He wasn't gentle as he took her mouth. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip. Their lips touched, and Eileen slid her tongue against his. He slipped his hand inside her knickers, admiring how slick she felt. She swiftly broke the kiss and placed his hands above his head again. He rested his head against the table, breathless.

"No touching. Not until after Sherlock comes to play."

He watched her dismount him and caught a glimpse of her strawberry patterned knickers. He swore to himself. "Please?" Now he was the one left begging. "I just–"

"No. You need to have more self control." Eileen smoothed her dress. "Go get yourself off or whatever you need to do to focus again. You agreed to give me Jim, and I expect to come back to him. Now, I'm going to find Sebastian. I have some shopping to do."

Moriarty watched her head towards the stairs and sat up straight. He hadn't expected this as an outcome to letting Eileen out. He glanced over at his bowl of half eaten soup. He was far too distracted to finish it. The scene played over in his head as he entered the bathroom to take care of himself. After he locked the door, he wasted no time in shoving his hand down his pants. Was this what his pet endured when he teased her? He rested his head against the door and stroked himself. The role reversal intrigued him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to moan.

He really had chosen the perfect pet.


	18. Complexities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. This is a longer chapter, but I felt it was about time a few things were explained and handled. I hope you enjoy!

I pulled my robe around me as I sat on the counter beside the stove where the marksman stood. I watched Sebastian cook for a moment then sighed. Despite it being 8:15 in the evening, Moriarty decided to head to bed early. He'd been slightly off since Eileen had her chat with him that morning. I didn't know exactly what Eileen had said to him, and that was a problem. I knew there was talk of cooperation for our inevitable meeting with Sherlock and John. However, I wasn't sure why he'd pushed me away when I'd tried to initiate sex. I figured his being off was related to something Eileen had done, but I felt incredibly in the dark. I could only recall bits of what had happened.

"Hey, Seb?"

Sebastian stopped chopping vegetables and looked at me. "What's got you bothered now?"

"He wouldn't have sex with me." Just saying those words made me feel like a petulant child. A brat whining about not being able to get things her way when she was given everything consistently. All that was missing was a pout and a fold of the arms.

"Ah." Seb went back to chopping. "Well, if you're that desperate to get your rocks off, and you can't handle it yourself with the plethora of toys in your bedroom, I can certainly take care of that for you."

" _Sebastian_."

"Joking. Boss wouldn't like that. Then again there _is_ our little agreement that if I were to be with you, he would rather I didn't penetrate you."

"Ugh, don't be gross!" I made a face. "You know I hate that word."

"His words, not mine."

We both knew why Moriarty was so possessive of me when it came to the idea of Sebastian and I having sex. About a month into me being his pet, Moriarty thought it would be a great idea to have a threesome with his tiger and his kitten. We never made it past foreplay. Jealousy washed over Moriarty as he watched Sebastian go down on me, followed by rage when he succeeded in making me come. That night was one of the scariest nights of my life. I still think it had to do with some sort of inferiority complex. Not only was Jim better at oral sex than Moriarty, but now the marksman had bested him at it as well.

While it didn't sit right with him, Moriarty granted Sebastian another chance at the threesome the next night. That time we'd barely started when Moriarty was once again unhappy and forced us to stop. What made him cross was the way I'd moaned when Sebastian had his turn with me. I said it was in his head and reassured him that I hadn't moaned differently as Seb thrusted into me from behind. Admittedly, Moriarty was better at sex than Sebastian, or so it felt from those few moments I'd received. But James's jealousy led to a rule that Seb was never allowed to be intimate with me and, if we ever tried it again as a threesome, Seb couldn't do more than oral with me. We hadn't attempted a threesome since, only teased him about it. Given that our relationship had shifted greatly over time, I sincerely doubted that Seb even wanted me in that way anymore. These days we shifted between nanny and charge and big brother and kid sister.

I bit my lip. "It's not so much that he refused sex, it's the way he treated me while doing it. I remember him wanting Eileen so desperately. I don't get why he'd deny me. I mean we have the same body."

"I think the reason boss won't have sex with you is cause you, well the other you, got to him," stated Seb matter-of-factly.

I watched him pour the veggies into a pot. "Did Eileen tell you what happened?"

"Yup."

"Please tell me. I don't know what I–what she–did."

"Well, the other you straddled him on the table and made a deal with him for the Holmes Watson situation." Seb dipped a spoon into the soupy mixture and blew on it gently. "Open." I did as he asked as he placed the spoon into my mouth. "Good?"

"Amazing! What kind is that?"

Seb handed me the recipe. "Hearty Pasta. I figured it was worth a try. As I was saying, the other you said she would like Jim for the blowout instead of him because he's easier to handle and more believable. Your other half isn't wrong, I reckon. So she also says that if he does what she wants then she'll sleep with him. She offered him a rather lewd idea, which of course he accepted. She wouldn't let him touch her or kiss her until then, and absolutely no sex until after Sherlock arrives. So I'm thinking what's got James all bothered is that he wants your body, but he can't stop thinking of her. Or maybe he's concerned Eileen will take over while you're in the act. Or maybe it's Jim we're dealing with now, and he's fearful that you are her. I dunno. There's too many people in this house between the both of you, honestly. I'd figured out James plain and simple but you…" He waved his hand. "Nevermind. I'm rambling."

"What about me, Seb?"

"You are such a handful before, and now there's two of you. I'm like a dad that has twins he wasn't expecting. I think I've got you somewhat figured out. I know I'm talking to Nora now and not the other you–Eileen was it?–cause you are very different." He sprinkled seasoning into the pot. "She's more sure of just about everything. Truth be told, I prefer you over her. She makes me concerned for you and boss. I'm not telling you to keep her locked up but I think you're better off when she is. There's something wretched about her. Very disastrous."

"Well, you know what I...what she did...b-back home."

"That I do. As I said, I think you're better off. The way you be'aved yourself during that Crown Jewels stunt James pulled, the drinking, that coldness of rigging things the way he does, that wasn't you."

"I know." I looked down at my hands. I suddenly felt ashamed. "I-I'm sorry."

Sebastian sighed and pulled me into him. "It's nothing to be sorry for, she's part of you." After kissing my forehead, he took my face in his hands. "Just don't let her actions take away Nora. Be careful is all I'm saying. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Seb?"

The marksman and I turned our heads. I realized immediately that it was Jim shuffling into the kitchen, and slowly relaxed. He wore a different set of pajamas than the ones he'd had on before I'd come down. These were rather plain, a simple white shirt and striped blue bottoms. Jim's hair was a mess, his face had more stubble than usual, and he looked almost peaked. A sinking feeling crept over me. He'd been showing signs of sickness for a day or so. Moriarty had soup for both breakfast and lunch, and now Seb was making more. The criminal was quite sweaty the night before as he clung to me in our sleep. Had he rejected me because he felt ill? If so, I truly was a self-centered brat. I suddenly felt horrible.

"Seb, is that soup?" Jim asked.

"It'll be finished soon," said Seb.

"Oh good." Jim leaned against the counter and caught my eye. His face began to fall. "Nora?"

I nodded.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry. Upstairs I thought you were her. I didn't mean–he didn't mean to be so cold. Pushing you away like that. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

"It's my fault. I didn't realize you were ill. I'm sorry. I was only thinking about me."

"I'm not ill, pet. I just don't feel my best right now."

Seb snorted.

"Besides feeling peaky wasn't why he rejected you." Jim rested his cheek against his fist. "We all know sex isn't entirely off the table when I'm sick unless I'm vomiting and even then…."

"True."

"I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright."

Jim inched closer to me. "If you'd like, I'd love to make it up to you."

"How?" I asked.

"Like this." His stubble tickled my skin as our lips touched.

"Stop!" Seb interjected. "What did I say about sex in the kitchen?"

"Nothing?"

"I only recall you saying something about sex in the living room." I mentioned.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Take it anywhere else but here. Boundaries, kids."

"Yes, Sebastian," we chimed.

"Fucking rabbits. You know this little honeymoon stage of yours has got to end soon."

Jim helped me off the counter and led me to the living room. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you wearing under that robe, pet?"

"Want to see?" Blood rushed to my cheeks when Jim nodded. I opened my robe to reveal green lace boyshorts and nothing else. "Do you like it? It's new."

He took my mouth, one hand bracing my head, the other grazing my nipple. I whimpered in his mouth. Our tongues were next to touch, then a mixture of our lips and teeth. Jim pulled away. "That's not fair."

"I'm not trying to be fair."

"You must have really wanted that ride earlier and I pushed you away. I'm so sorry."

"Just come here and show me how sorry you are."

 

* * *

  
There was loud pounding on the door followed by shouting. I got out of bed and quickly covered up, tying the belt of my robe tightly around my waist.

"Jim, wake up."

Jim groaned. I glanced at the clock and saw it was midnight. I had an inkling about the person or persons outside the door. As I Ieft our bedroom and headed down the stairs into the living room, Jim let out a small cough. I frowned and made a note to get him more paracetamol when we went back to bed. I entered the living room and watched Sebastian cock a pistol and take the stairs two at a time to the front door. The voices on the other side of the door sounded like Sherlock and John. A groggy Jim trailed in behind me. His eyes widened at the voices and we exchanged looks. I hadn't anticipated Sherlock coming over this soon.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to need you to wake up a bit." I mentioned. "I think your nemesis is at the door."

Jim gave a soft chuckle, then squeezed my hand. "You'll be just fine."

It was easy for him to say. He knew his role around Sherlock and he was comfortable with his halves. My part would be much harder. I'd only been interrogated by Sherlock as Nora, and he'd reduced me to tears. She'd managed a visit with Sherlock without incident, but that didn't stop me from feeling uncomfortable in my own home. Sebastian unlatched the door and Sherlock came bounding up the stairs in a whirl of curls and scarf.

"Sherlock, it's midnight, lower your voice," said John.

Sherlock ignored him and stopped inches from me. He was so much taller than I remembered. It was quite frightening looking up at him when his eyes were blazing with accusation. "James Moriarty is real! Yes or no? Tell me!"

"What?" The tremble in my voice upset me. I didn't want to sound as fearful as I felt.

"You sleep with him every night. Moriarty is real and Richard Brook is a fake, and you know it. You're proof. So tell me! Tell him! Tell the papers!"

"Stop shouting and let's go, Sherlock. It's too late in the night to do this."

"Sherlock?" I gasped. "As in Sherlock Holmes?"

Jim jumped in front of me, "S-Stay away from her. Leave us alone. You've...you've done quite enough."

The detective growled. "I'm not speaking to you. I'm talking to her!"

That did it. That was enough to bring out Eileen. I touched Jim's shoulder and felt the words spill out of my mouth before I realized I was saying them. "Richard, what's happening?"

"I'm so sorry, dearest!" Jim took my hands. "He keeps threatening me, calling me Moriarty. He claims I did these horrible things. You know I would never."

"Oh my...you two were the ones who visited his apartment, aren't you?" Eileen knew exactly how to shape my words. I frowned at Sherlock, "You're the ones who scared him."

"It was a fake apartment!" Sherlock pressed. "For God's sake, Richard Brook isn't real. This man is James Moriarty."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Jim apologized with frightened eyes. "Yes, it's them. T-That's why I asked to stay over tonight. I-I-I didn't think they'd find your home. I don't know this Jim Moriarty they're talking about. I'm so sorry, Eileen. Please forgive me."

"Eileen?" John stared at me. "Hold on, your name is Nora. You told us your name is Nora."

"I assure you, we've never met. My name is Eileen." I kissed Jim's lips and stroked his cheeks. "It's alright darling. I'm not upset." Jim felt warm to the touch. I made a mental note to check his temperature once this was over.

"Your name is Nora," said Sherlock. " _Stop lying_."

"I'm not lying to you." I locked eyes with Sherlock. The taller man's manic expression began to fall. I held Jim's hand, lacing my fingers with his. "Again, this man's name is Richard Brook, and he's my fiancé."

John looked from Sherlock to me, "I don't believe you."

I turned to Jim, "Sweetheart, where did you put our announcement?"

"Just over here." Jim scrambled for the coffee table. He found a section of the paper to with our fake engagement announcement and handed it to John. "Th-this is our announcement. It ran in the papers."

This was true. I'd sent it to the presses so that all of London would see that the man Sherlock claimed was Moriarty was fake and that Richard Brook was real. So real, in fact, that he was engaged to be married in addition to having a career as an actor.

John skimmed the paper for our announcement. He stopped, folded the paper in half, and began to read aloud. _"The engagement is announced between Richard, son of David and Matilda Brook of Dublin, Ireland and Eileen, daughter of Kenneth and Lizzie McNally, of Worthing, West Sussex."_ John looked at Sherlock. "Nora told us...she told us she was from Sussex, Sherlock."

"Anyone can post an announcement. She obviously just changed her name to her middle name." Sherlock scoffed then gestured at Seb. "Who is this man, _Eileen_?"

"Mr. Holmes," I walked over to Sebastian, "this is my big brother, Daniel. He's saying with me for a moment, before he goes back to Ireland to be with our gran. I had a little...situation. He's been helping me around the house. I don't know who this Moriarty is, or why you think we've spoken before. I only know you two from the papers. Sherlock Holmes and that Dr. Watson fellow, isn't it?"

"I'm John," the doctor nodded. "John Watson."

"I apologize for meeting you this way. You seem like a nice man."

"She had bruises, John," Sherlock grabbed my wrist, causing my robe to fall past my shoulders. All of my bruises and love bites had healed and there was no evidence of Moriarty's actions. Thankfully, yesterday's incident where he pushed me against the wall didn't bruise.

"Hey!" I covered myself up and clung to Jim.

"Don't touch my fiancée!" Jim cried.

Sherlock stared at me, dumbfounded. "John, I swear. Moriarty is real, Nora was...Nora. You saw the bruises."

"If you're engaged, where is the ring?" asked John.

"I don't like flashy jewelry and I have a hard time wearing rings so he got me this instead." I revealed the necklace that I'd gotten for Christmas, and had only taken off a handful of times since. "He saved up for it."

"And you're choosing not to live together until after the wedding?"

"Yes, but that might change. The wedding isn't until early next year."

John turned to Sherlock and looked between the two of us, uncertainty on his face.

"Please leave us be."

"You and I...we talked at the bookshop. You want to tell me that that conversation never happened?"

The look on John's face admittedly broke my heart. A twinge of guilt surged through me as I said, "I swear to you Dr...Watson, was it?"

John nodded.

"Dr. Watson, I swear to you we've never met before this time. Mr. Holmes, Moriarty is not here. Just me, Richard, and Dan."

"I know you are not who you say you are," snapped Sherlock. "You and I had a conversation as well. I know what I saw. I know my partner knows what he saw. How can you stand there and be so dishonest?"

"Please, leave us be. We showed you proof." Jim held me close. "What more do you want?"

"A piece of press and a necklace aren't proof."

John touched the detective's shoulder. "Sherlock. Please, let's just go. You made your point."

"Darling, are you alright?" Jim stroked my hair. "D-Do you need to sit down?"

"Yes," I agreed. He was up to something. I let him walk me towards the arm chair and sat down carefully. "Thank you, love. That's much better."

"Is she okay?" asked John.

Jim knitted his eyebrows, and placed his hand on my shoulder. "We...lost our baby a couple of weeks ago. Eileen wasn't very far along. The doctor wants her to refrain from getting over excited or stressed."

I mentally rolled my eyes. He was really laying it on thick. I decided to play along. "That's why Dan is staying with me. He's taken such great care of me while Richard is away on auditions."

"Oh bull!" Sherlock cried.

"Sherlock, shut up." John sighed. "I'm sorry, continue Eileen. Please."

"The baby wasn't planned." I thought back to the previous times Moriarty and I conceived and began to tear up. I touched Jim's hand on my shoulder. "I...I'd missed a couple of days...and it happened the night he proposed. Total shock. Our parents weren't too happy, you'd imagine, being traditional. But Richard and I...we were so happy." I let out a sob, a genuine sob. Moriarty had never been remotely happy the times I'd mentioned I was pregnant and it broke my heart. "Then...then…"

"She got too stressed at work," Jim finished. He squeezed my hand, but not in the loving way he had earlier. This squeeze was one of annoyance. I looked up at Jim and saw a hint of Moriarty. It wasn't noticeable enough for Sherlock to catch on, but it was apparent that, once they left, I would have him to deal with. I took a deep breath to calm down. I needed to get it together and keep a stiff upper lip.

"I'll be okay. It's just...it's hard right now."

"Christ. Sherlock," John made a face, "apologize."

The detective's eyebrows rose. "To a liar? Please. For what?"

"For barging into her home in the middle of the night, accusing her of being someone else, putting her through more stress when she just lost a child. Just apologize so that we can leave."

"You've got to be joking!" Sherlock cried. "You actually believe them? That's Jim Moriarty. You know just as well as I do that it's him. You know damn well that that woman is his precious pet, Nora."

"I'm not sure what to think anymore." The doubt across John's face both excited and saddened me. "Honestly, I think we need to go home before Lestrade and Donovan get called. You can't afford to be arrested right now."

Sherlock headed down the stairs, his coat billowing behind him. The front door opened and slammed shut. John sighed, croaked out an apology, then followed his partner out of our flat. Once a few moments passed and it was clear that Sherlock and the good doctor weren't about to return, I looked up at Jim. Instead, Moriarty looked back at me. I took a shuttering breath.

"Are you quite finished?" He grimaced and dragged his fingers across my cheeks, leaving them tender. "It's best not to waste tears on the past, dearest. It won't change anything."

"I know," I hiccuped. "I'm sorry."

"It was too dangerous anyway. What with Sherlock, my job, us..." There was something wistful about his tone.

"James."

"You understand."

"I do."

He kissed my cheek. "Good girl. Let's go to bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly considering writing a chapter about the threesome, though I'm not entirely sure.


	19. Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience. I've been sitting on this one for months, unsure if I should post it. But I finally decided I wanted to, and almost needed to, in order to carry on with this fic and finally discuss another elephant in their relationship.

" _What cruel trick of nature landed me with such a louse? God knows how I've lasted living with this bastard in the house._ "

"Pet..."

I immediately stopped singing. "Yes?"

Nothing.

"James?" I tried again, this time removing my earbuds to better hear his reply.

James shuffled past the room with a blanket wrapped around his body. His hair stuck out at odd angles and his stubble had progressed to the point where his mustache was much more noticeable. He let out a raspy cough before throwing himself face-down on the couch with a loud moan **.** I groaned inwardly. There was no doubt about it. My master was sick.

In the time I'd known him, James had only been this way once. Sure, there'd been times when his allergies got the best of him, or he'd had food poisoning, but that was much different. For one, James acted predictably. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried to remember how he was the last time he'd truly been ill. I took a deep breath when I recalled his behavior. It felt like ages ago. James spent half the time vomiting and the other half complaining and behaving like a child. Although Moriarty took over for Jim, he actually never got physically violent with me. I assumed it was due to any weakness he experienced. He did say a handful of unkind things, but he followed them with apologies in the next breath. All of those things were simple annoyances compared to when his fever got the best of him. I wasn't in the mood to handle him with a fever. I was still raw from what he'd said the night before.

"Nora...Eileen...will one of you come sit with your James?" He whimpered. "I feel ill!"

I sighed. Since our meeting with Sherlock last night, Moriarty had taken Jim's place. I wished Jim was still around, but knew that he'd only appeared to keep Moriarty's end of our bargain. I folded the towel I was using to clean with, cut the light out in the kitchen, and made my way to the couch.

"Are you coming? I'm your master, pet. You have to help me."

"Oi! I'm here." I lifted his feet and took a seat beside him on the couch with a huff. "What's wrong?"

"Sick."

"I've gathered that, dearest. You have to tell me what exactly it is. What hurts?"

He looked at me with red, glassy eyes. "Everything. Head, throat, stomach, body. It's so ord—" He broke off into a coughing fit. Once he was done, he gripped the fabric of his shirt and grimaced. "Ordinary."

I noticed the beads of sweat on Moriarty's brow. The thin V-neck and boxer briefs he wore clung tightly to him due to his perspiration. It hit me then just how sick he was. I'd known he was coming down with something, but with preparing for Sherlock and dealing with Eileen, it just went over my head. I needed to take his temperature. Before bed, he was running at 37.5 Celsius. I'd felt that his body was hot during the night, but I was cold and I'd used it to my benefit. Now that I thought of it, he was even more clingy in bed than usual, a characteristic that often hit when he was in the throes of a bug. He held my cold body close as if his life depended on it, probably as a much needed relief to his skin. Had I not been so cavalier, I likely could've gotten him medicine earlier in the week to nip this before it got to this point.

"Darling," Moriarty sniffed, "touch me. I'm hot, aren't I? Pet..."

"Dearest—"

"I'm burning up! Feel!" Moriarty sat up straight and leaned closer to me. I placed my palm against his forehead, immediately noticing the clamminess of his skin. He _did_ feel rather warm. I got to my feet. "I'm burning up, aren't I? I've got influenza. I know it. I'm going to die, aren't I? I certainly feel like it."

"James, you've got to calm down." I began. "You feel like you have a fever. Let's get you some liquids and get you back to bed, hmm?"

"No, I don't want to go to bed. I don't feel good."

"I know, darling. But if you don't want to go to bed, then what do you want?"

"Soup?"

"Okay."

Seb's footsteps plodded toward the kitchen. "I'm on it."

I curled back onto the couch while James got more comfortable. Ignoring the tickle in my throat, I flipped on the telly. We settled on an episode of Charlie and Lola. I was too distracted to grasp what was happening on a few other channels and, in his sickness, Moriarty grew pickier than usual about what he wanted to watch. The last time Moriarty was sick, CBeebies proved to have light programmes that were just silly enough for us to handle as he fluctuated in and out of coherence. While I hadn't developed a fever yet, something told me I would have one by tomorrow.

"Charlie is so mean to Lola." Moriarty sniffed. "She's just little and curious and—" He sneezed twice. "He's not a nice brother. I'd let her do whatever she wants. She's just a kid."

"Mm-hmm," I said passively. I'd started checking my email on my phone, and was currently preoccupied with a newsletter about a new frappuccino flavor.

"I dunno. I find Lola to be a bit annoying," said Seb.

My eyes flicked over to the marksman in a warning glance. He shouldn't have said that, and he'd pay for that response in 5...4...3...2...

Moriarty made a face. "What? What did you just say, Sebastian?"

"It's the way she says ' _but Charlie'_." Sebastian imitated her whine. He handed a cup of soup and a glass of water to the criminal, who gratefully took it.

I chuckled and set my phone aside. He did Lola spot on.

"That's so mean!" Moriarty gasped. "She's four! Take it back, Sebastian. Pet, make him take it back."

"Seb…"

Seb rolled his eyes. "Fine, I didn't mean it. Listen, I've got a job to handle for you, boss. I'll be back."

We waved him off and Moriarty continued to watch the programme. He rambled on during the episode, adding commentary here and there. I made him drink two glasses of water, hoping the liquids would bring his fever down or at least prevent dehydration. By the end of the episode, he'd set his empty soup bowl on the coffee table and wrapped the blanket tightly around him.

"If we had a daughter, I think Lola would be a nice name." Moriarty murmured. "Lola Moriarty."

I looked at him. Gone was the whiny, difficult Moriarty and here was lucid, high fever Moriarty. Last time he was this way, we entered a deep discussion about our childhoods and I learned quite a few things that helped me piece together the strange mosaic that was my master.

"She'd have your eyes and my grin."

I grew increasingly annoyed with him each time he brought up children. Was he doing it on purpose to get a rise out of me, or did he genuinely not realize what he was doing to me when he said things like that?

"She'd be beautiful and smart. Do you think she'd be short?"

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" I glared at him.

"Doing what?"

"Bringing up children. You won't let me have a child, so stop fantasizing about what you'd name our daughter and what she'd look like. It's cruel."

"Come now, pet," scoffed Moriarty. "Don't tell me you honestly still want children."

"No. Of course I don't actually want children," I snapped. "Not anymore, at least. But I wanted it to be an option I could decline. Not an option you took away from me!"

"Technically you did decline it by deciding to be my pet. You're acting as if I made you get sterilized."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "Y-You know what I mean. That first time I turned up pregnant, you shattered any hope I had of us being more than just us...of us maybe having a family together."

"Oh, pet." Moriarty sighed. He leaned closer to me and placed his hand over mine. "I didn't mean to hurt you, then or now, but especially then and that second time when I flung you down the stairs. It was so awful of me. But, it's like I told you last night–"

"I know what you said."

"Then you understand."

"Just because I understand doesn't make it any less painful, or fair for you to keep doing this to me."

"...I'm sorry."

That was the most genuine apology I'd received in a month from him. I took a deep breath to compose myself. "I get that we won't have a 'happily ever after' with kids and the whole lot, but it doesn't stop me from wishing at times that we could."

"I know," said Moriarty. "I do think about it often, pet. I wish I could do that for you. I watch you around the house, when we're in public, and I think _maybe one day_. You'd make a beautiful mother, you know. I truly believe that. But then I think about me and how venomous I can be, and now you and Eileen. It's toxic. We're toxic. I'd be a great father when Jim comes about. But me? I might have good moments but I'd be horrible. You? You'd be a great mum-"

"I gave you the idea to traumatize children with mercury. Do you honestly think I'd make a good mum? I have decent moments, but you were right. Maybe it _is_ for the best I never had them."

"You don't believe that."

"I do."

"Only because I made you believe that over time."

"Not quite. I knew children were never an option for me long before you came along. I suppose I knew it the day I realized what I'd done in that woman's kitchen."

Moriarty gave me a sorrowful look. "Oh, pet."

We both grew quiet for a moment.

"Our child would suffer from us." He broke into a coughing fit, followed by a sneeze. "It...it wouldn't work."

I gave a small nod. "I know."

"Sometimes I think that once this mess with Sherlock is over and we're both back in Ireland, you and I might have a decent shot at being a family." He grabbed a tissue and blew his nose. "Sorry...ugh. A child might do better there despite us."

"Until our child doesn't. Because we can't handle an infant. We can barely handle ourselves and our retched natures."

Neither James nor I said anything for a while. I looked at the telly and watched Lola beg Charlie for something. He told her no and she whined. I thought about what would happen if I had a child. I wondered if I would inadvertently treat it just as my parents did me. Who would take the child if James and I were out of sorts or gone? I thought about the other manipulative couples we shared occasional dinners with, but their choice of occupations would not allow them to take our kid. Evie wouldn't care for our child either. Seb would undoubtedly be the one. After all, he was the most responsible one out of the three of us. _You're a handful, monkey_. Seb's words echoed through my head. He was already playing nanny to me and assistant to James. To ask him to care for our child would be cruel. A thought about my parents skittered through my mind. My breath caught in my throat.

"James, the baby would end up like me, sent away to grandparents or someone else. Mumma and daddy just couldn't do it with me...not with how they were..."

"Well, you know what they say about apples, pet." Moriarty fixed me with a dark, knowing look. A chill went down my spine. "Perhaps it's time we finally talk about your trees."

"Perhaps not."

"Hush now," he kissed my cheek. "No harm done. I was only messing."

We both knew he wasn't. He'd been eager to discuss my parents before, but much more so since Eileen came along.

I cleared my throat. "Neither of us have family now, really. Gran and Gramps are long gone. What would we do, leave it with Sebastian, or at an orphanage? That's incredibly unfair."

"I know. Which is why…." Moriarty's voice trailed off. "Nora, I get that not having children has hurt you and it may be a deal breaker with me—"

"It's not a deal breaker. If it were, I'd have left a long time ago. It's just...you've talked about children frequently enough lately that it's dug up a few raw feelings. Besides, if we were to have children, I think I'm running out of time biologically speaking." I mentally cringed at myself. I never thought I'd be one to even think about my internal clock. It didn't matter now. A baby in our hands was far too dangerous.

"I know. I'm sorry. I've been very careless." Moriarty touched my cheek. "Forgive us?"

"I do."

"Nora, I...I..." He struggled to say the words for a second time since Christmas. He swallowed and tried again but failed. "I don't deserve you."

"I know."

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Moriarty rested his head on my lap and kicked off the blanket. I absentmindedly ran my hands through his hair.

"You're so gentle," he muttered. "Your presence is really comforting right now."

I shushed him. "Go to sleep, James."

"But I like talking with you."

"You can talk with me until you fall asleep."

"Okay."

I waited for James to say something, but heard him snore instead. With Moriarty dozing off, I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Sebastian.

> _Bring home flu medication, antibiotics, idk something for influenza. He's got a fever. :(  
>  _ _—NM_

Taking James to the doctor right now wasn't exactly an option. He was far too noticeable. Besides, Seb knew where to get antibiotics, even if he had to call in a favor. James needed to get well if he was going to finish his problem with Sherlock. I sneezed and cleared my throat.

> _Make it double.  
>  _ —NM

Seb's reply came quickly.

> _2 steps ahead, monkey. Already got em. Home soon.  
>  _ _—SM_

I set my phone beside me and took to brushing Moriarty's hair away from his face. He muttered my name. I shushed him, not wanting to wake him. James whimpered, then moved onto his back. His eyes met mine.

"Yes, dearest?" I asked.

"You _do_ know that I care about you very much, don't you?"

"Aye, I do." I placed my palm on his forehead. Not nearly as hot as earlier, but still warm. "Go back to sleep. You need your rest."

"That feels nice. You know, Seb thought I was only in lust with you."

"I can definitely see why he'd think that."

"It was that time when you first became my pet. You remember? When he came home to you blowing me in that chair. Well, Seb is wrong. I'm not only in lust with you. I do...love you, pet."

I stopped for a moment, slightly surprised, then said, "You know I feel the same."

"No, no." Moriarty sat upright. "You're not understanding. _I_ love you. _Me._ "

Realizing what he meant, I leaned forward and granted him a kiss. He returned the favor, but ended it as quickly as it started.

"Stop." He took my face in his hands. "Do you understand me, Nora?"

My cheeks reddened the way they always did when he used that tone. I felt almost embarrassed. This marked the second and third time he'd said those words, I didn't take it as seriously as I needed to. If Moriarty was the one actually expressing his feelings for me, fevered haze or not, that was something new for James. I nodded. "Yes."

"Good girl."

"I-I love you, too, Moriarty." I searched his eyes, "What made you say it?"

"Jim's already told you. It's time I did the same. I've been trying and...I don't know if I'll be able to say those words again. Alright?"

"Alright."


	20. Sebastian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a long one, and follows Sebastian. I figured it was time to get into how he sees things in terms of his relationships with Nora and James.

Sebastian tried to ponder what his life was like two years ago. Back when it was only him and James. Back when his daily tasks simply involved his sniper skills. Back before he had the number to the Marie Stopes 24-hour line saved into his phone. Back before he knew every Amy Winehouse song by heart and the average cost of a bath bomb at Lush. He had to admit his life was more relaxed then. Not that he was overly stressed now. Then again, he _did_ find himself reaching for an extra cigarette from time to time. Overall, things were so much more simple then. Sebastian knew how to handle James's halves, when to make himself scarce around Moriarty, when to pander to Jim's clinginess. He knew what to do when James was in a mood, how to please him, what foods and wines he prefered, what places he frequented. It seemed like so long ago. His relationship with James had altered greatly now that the criminal wasn't the only one who needed him.

His life was unpredictable now, but not nearly as unpredictable as it was in the first few weeks of Nora living with them. Back when he walked in on her and James at least once a day.

* * *

 _Sebastian reached the top of the stairs and stopped in his tracks. James Moriarty sat in a chair, the girl recently introduced to the marksman as Nora McNally knelt on a pillow before his boss. James's eyes were shut tightly, his head tilted backward in pleasure, as her head bobbed at a steady pace. She was blowing him in the living room. In the_ _**fucking** _ _living room. Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. This was his life now. Moriarty and Nora were deeply in lust with one another. They'd only been a pair for a short time, yet there'd been countless moments where Sebastian walked into rooms and found the two in compromising positions, moaning loudly as they humped, stole messy kisses, and whimpered affirmations._

_Nora was pretty, but she wasn't quite his type. Though, he had to admit that her topless frame between his boss's legs aroused him at the moment. He watched her take Moriarty's throbbing dick in her mouth and bit his bottom lip. That familiar moan from the criminal made his body start to react. It had been quite some time since he'd spent time alone with James. He'd been left to satisfy himself now that Nora had captured his boss's full attention._

_Moriarty pulled himself out of Nora's mouth, and promptly came into a tissue. Once he was done, he kissed her swollen lips. "I don't want you to swallow, pet. You don't usually, do you?"_

_"No, but I have before." She bowed her head, and added, "It wasn't exactly by choice."_

_He frowned, then raised her chin. "I won't force you to swallow. It's disgusting. You're my pet, not a—oh! Hang on, kitten. I believe we have company."_

_"Who?"_

_"Our tiger." Moriarty turned his head and met eyes with the marksman._

_Seb gave a nod. "James."_

_"Enjoy the show?"_

_"I'd very much prefer if you two would stop fucking in the common areas. It's_ _**rude** _ _."_

_"Aww, you're no fun anymore." Moriarty tucked himself back into his boxers with a grin. "Would you like to join us?"_

_"I think I'll pass."_

_"Oh, come on. My kitten will like it. Won't you?"_

_Nora ran her fingers through her hair. "Well, I've never had a threesome before..."_

_"And you likely won't have to as long as you're here," said Sebastian. "So, no, thank you. I don't mix business and pleasure."_

_"Are you sure?" coaxed Moriarty. "Did you hear what my kitten said? You'd be her first. We both know how much you enjoy that."_

_Sebastian bristled in disbelief. Anything he'd done with James was between the two of them. It was not for Nora to know about, especially considering the criminal would likely grow bored of her and break things off before the end of the month. Moriarty's lips curled into a toothy grin. Sebastian made his way up the stairs to his room._

_"Come on, Seb! Come back! Oh, well. He's far too sensitive at times, pet."_

* * *

He'd held so much resentment and annoyance toward Nora in the beginning. Now, he'd grown to feel responsible for her. Sebastian got out of bed and headed down the hall to James and Nora's room. A few hours had passed since he last checked on them. He poked his head inside and found Moriarty in bed with his back against the headboard.

"Oh, Genevieve," he frowned at the woman on the telly. "That gown is clearly blush. Your aunt will be so unhappy."

The marksman entered quietly and picked up an empty bowl from the criminal's nightstand. He made a mental note that James sounded much better than earlier.

James took a tissue in his hand, cleared his throat, then looked up at the marksman. "Don't hover, Seb. You know I don't like that."

"Just about to head downstairs. Need anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

James looked at the empty space in bed beside him. "Actually...do you know where kitten is? She went downstairs a while ago and hasn't come back."

"Well, you _were_ snoring earlier. Perhaps she needed space?"

"That's not very nice, tiger. I can't help it when I'm sick."

"I know, boss. I'm only joking."

"I ought to get her a bell." James picked up his phone and muttered, "You can get bells on Amazon, right?"

"I think the bigger question is would you enjoy a whack to the face?"

"Seb!"

"Do you honestly believe Nora would allow you to make her wear a bell if you bought one for her?"

"No. You're right. Nora wouldn't allow it. If Nora did, then Eileen certainly wouldn't hear of it."

"Do you want me to bring her up when I find her?" asked Sebastian. He instantly regretted his words. The last time he attempted to move Nora while she was ill, she put up a fight and he took a sharp blow to the face by her foot.

"Do you mind? I know it's simple, but I've grown accustomed to Nora sleeping next to me."

"That's what usually happens when you care for someone."

"I suppose I _have_ become sentimental about my pet. Do you think she's sentimental about me too? I mean, I know she says it, but do you think she means it."

Sebastian chuckled. It was interesting to watch Moriarty and Jim overlap. "Boss, Nora is nothing if not honest when it comes to how she really feels about something, good or bad. If she tells you she loves you, she does. Alright?"

"Okay. Can you go get her?"

The taller man nodded and left the room. He took the stairs two at a time. The kitchen light was on, partially illuminating downstairs. He didn't see any sign of her at first, so he took James's bowl into the kitchen to wash. As he put a pod into the Keurig, he heard a noise from the living room akin to a gargle and a sneeze. _Found her,_ he thought.

Sebastian exited the kitchen, mug of coffee and bottle of water in hand. He stopped abruptly when he noticed Nora sleeping on the floor. She was wrapped loosely in a blanket, an arm still on the couch, snoring loudly. He sighed.

She was the reason for the extra cigarette. She was the reason why he learned how to carefully stitch skin, instead of doing it the haphazard way he'd used on himself. The woman James called _kitten_. The woman the criminal beat and fucked and loved.

"You're a handful, monkey."

He set down the drinks, then turned off the kitchen light and switched on a table lamp. She groaned at the brightness. As gently as he could, Sebastian lifted Nora and placed her on the couch. She stirred slightly.

He crouched beside her. "Love, I need you to get up. Your bed with James will be far more comfortable than this floor."

"...riarty's snoring."

"He's watching telly."

"Mm."

"C'mon, let's get you to bed."

"...no."

He noticed then how flushed her cheeks appeared. One palm on her forehead confirmed his suspicions. Just as he'd managed to get James's temperature down, Nora's went back up. He swore. "Blimey, you're as hot as James. Jesus, monkey. Did you take your medicine like I told you to?"

"No," Nora rolled onto her side. "...'m fine. Let me sleep."

Sebastian looked at the table and found her next dose still in the blister pack. He wanted to yell. He hated how obstinate she could be in sickness. He switched tones. "Nora, you need to wake up and take your medicine."

She groaned, but sat up just enough to allow him to place a pill in her mouth, and the water bottle by her lips. After swallowing the pill, Nora took the bottle from him. What started as a sip progressed quickly to large gulps.

"Oi, take your time! You'll make yourself sick." Seb kissed Nora's temple when she finished and looked into her glazed eyes. "There's my girl. What do you say we get you upstairs and back to bed, hmm?"

"Will you carry me, Seb?" asked Nora. "I don't think I have the energy to make it back upstairs."

"Was that why you were sleeping down here?"

"Partly."

"Monkey, _what_ am I going to do with you?"

He hooked one arm under her knees, and the other around her back as he lifted her from the ground. Nora leaned her head against his shoulder. Moments like these when he pandered to her as though she were a child were the ones that sent their relationship even deeper into ambiguity. Then there were the times when she involved him in more adult matters.

* * *

_"What are you doing?" whispered Sebastian._

_He didn't take too well to suddenly being pulled behind a dressing room privacy curtain. Nora stood before him in an intricate lace up bra and bottom set she'd just picked out._

_She brought a finger to her lips, "Seb, I need you to undress me."_

_The marksman scoffed, "You're barking."_

_"Please? I need to see how long it takes for you to get me naked."_

_"To what end?"_

_"Lower your voice or we'll get caught." Nora took a deep breath. "Don't be so simple. If it takes you too long to undress me or there's something complicated about the ties in the back, then it's not going to work for James. I mean, I plan to buy this and wear it sometime, but it has to be easy to remove to work for him. I'm sick of him ripping apart my lingerie. I've been here so many times the ladies here know us by name and it's starting to spook me."_

_Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair. "Monkey, have you ever considered—oh, I dunno—just being naked when he comes into the room?"_

_"We both know he bores easily. Besides, he's really into me wearing lingerie right now so being naked is not enough. He has to unwrap me like it's a holiday." Nora took a deep breath and stepped back. "Please just do this for me."_

_"Fine." He began to carefully untie her bottoms._

_"Do you need me to kiss you?"_

_"What for?"_

_"To get you in the mood. I need you to undress me as though you can't wait to have me. Not like you're disarming a timer."_

_Sebastian huffed. After pulling her closer, he swiftly untied the ribbons at her hips. He kept his eyes on hers, not wanting to look at her body, though he'd seen it enough times it was nearly etched into his memory._

_"You know you can look at my body. Not looking at me is more awkward. After all, you've made me come for fuck's sake."_

_He broke eye contact. Her top was a bit harder to remove, but he sorted it out moments later. "Was that an acceptable amount of time?" he asked._

_"For the bottoms, yes. But it took just a hair too long for my top. Thanks, Seb. That's all."_ _Nora pushed the center of Sebastian's chest, causing him to stumble out of the dressing room._

_"Easy!" he scolded._

_A store associate noticed his exit and folded her arms. "Excuse me, Sebastian! I understand you can't wait to see your girlfriend in lingerie, but you can't be in the dressing room with her."_

_Sebastian wanted to tell her for the fourth time that they were not together, but apologized instead._

* * *

His feelings for her fluctuated often. There were times when he felt a pull in his chest similar to longing whenever he kissed her temple, or held her after one of James's punishments. She'd say his name or grin at one of his compliments, and for a fleeting moment he'd think about her and what it would be like with just the two of them. And there were a couple of times when, he was ashamed to admit, he got himself off on the memory of their brief time together and the few times they'd kissed. He cared about her. He cared _for_ her. And, yes, he did love her. But Sebastian didn't know how to characterize their relationship. Though most of the time he felt like her best friend or surrogate boyfriend, what confused him were the times when he felt like her brother and managed her like a child.

Ultimately, he didn't know how to categorize his feelings for Nora. Somehow he was certain Nora didn't know how to categorize her feelings for him either. They had moments. Ones where her hand lingered a bit longer on his, or their eyes locked longer than they should. If he were honest with himself, James did the same thing. The difference was that he'd actually slept with James. He'd had a romantic relationship with him.

Sebastian told himself that until he could figure out his feelings, he would continue to be there for Nora, showing compassion for her when he knew James wouldn't.

* * *

_"Sebastian…"_

_He stared down at Nora. Her knees were pulled into her chest and she was sobbing._

_"He's going to be livid with me, Sebastian."_

_"Why?" Sebastian knew why in the pit of his stomach, but he figured he'd ask anyway for good measure._

_Nora put her head in her hands._

_"What is it?"_

_"I'm late."_

_Sebastian swore. James was quite unforgiving. Seb had heard the commotion Moriarty had caused, the beating he'd dealt to Nora the last time she'd been pregnant. His job was not to question what Moriarty did to her. His job was not to interfere. His job was to care for her in the aftermath, to clean her up, feed her, silence her cries, and assure her that she was fine. Sebastian needed to keep his voice calm if this conversation with Nora was going to be successful. He didn't want her turning into a stuttering mess._

_"How late?" he asked._

_"Dunno," Nora shrugged. "A week and a half. Maybe two weeks."_

_Shit. "Are you stressed? Upset?"_

_Nora shrugged again. He absolutely hated when she did that._

_"Well, are you two using prophylactics?"_

_Sebastian never went without a condom when he was intimate with someone. He always made James use protection, but that didn't mean the criminal continued the habit with Nora. In fact, Sebastian hadn't noticed any condoms being brought into the flat in quite some time. Definitely not since she'd been his pet. Nora confirmed his suspicions, reminding him that Moriarty never wore a condom when they had sex and that he'd told her it was her responsibility to prevent pregnancy._

_"Okay," he ran a hand through his bangs. "Have you been taking your pills?"_

_Nora nodded, "But I missed two days."_

_"Did you and James have sex on those days?"_

_"I don't remember."_

_"Let's be safe and say you did. Have you taken a test?"_

_They'd done this dance before. It happened last time. Except that time, she'd taken the test before he'd found her sobbing on the floor. She'd been crying tears of happiness, ignorant to James's feelings on procreation._

_"Not yet," she whispered._

_"I could get you one, then."_

_"I-I can't take one h-here."_

_Sebastian ran a hand over his face. "What do you suppose we do then?"_

_"I need to go to the doctor," said Nora. "The clinic, somewhere. H-He can't know."_

_"Get up. I'll take you."_

_"I can't."_

_"Come on, monkey." He lifted her into his arms. "You've got to stop crying. It will be fine."_

* * *

Sebastian was the one who took Nora to the doctor countless times. He was the one who looked after her when she'd had an abortion. He was the one who stood beside her in the store as she piled clothes into his arms. He was the one who patiently told her yes or no when she tried on outfit after outfit. He was the one who listened when she talked about nothing, when she told him something important, sad, or interesting she'd experienced. He knew what colors brought out her eyes, how her nose crinkled when she was really happy, how her voice wavered when she was upset but told him she was okay with something. He knew to keep track of when red cups and pumpkin spice lattes returned to Starbucks, and that surprising her with the first one of the season always made her giggle with excitement. After their trips to France, Italy, and Scotland, he learned she got cranky during the third hour of them being in another country. Sebastian was the one who paid attention to these things.

At times, he felt his relationship with Nora was more intimate than Moriarty's relationship with her. Somehow he knew James felt that way, too. It was a likely contributor to why the criminal grew so suspicious of moments Sebastian shared with Nora. Despite the fact that the intimate moments Sebastian shared with Nora were non-sexual, despite the fact that James would always be the better fuck for Nora, and despite the fact that James was the man she wanted, James turned unnecessarily possessive. He reminded Nora that she was his, and Sebastian that _kitten_ was _off-limits_.

He knew it was the little things that bugged James—particularly the fact that Sebastian knew certain things about Nora that he didn't. Sure James could ask her whatever he wanted to know and she'd likely tell him, but the fact that Nora came to Sebastian first at times was a sore spot. Seb had tried before to explain that Nora did this sometimes because she feared his reaction, but that upset James greatly.

Sometimes Sebastian wondered if he, Nora, and James would be in a relationship had they actually managed to complete the threesome that night. Deep down he knew that, in some ways, regardless of sex, they were already in one. He knew that whatever the three of them were, whatever his relationships were with Nora and James, that they weren't exactly healthy.

"Seb…" Nora coughed. "Sebastian?"

He glanced down at the woman in his arms, "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"It's nothing."

Sebastian turned the corner and entered Nora and Moriarty's bedroom. Immediately, the criminal perked up at the site of his pet in the marksman's arms. Sebastian laid her down beside Moriarty, then brought the blankets up to her waist.

"I got some water and medicine in her," said Sebastian. "She should feel better after some more rest."

Nora rolled onto her side and faced Moriarty, who curled up next to her and laced his fingers with hers.

"Are you okay?" James asked.

She nodded, "You?"

He nodded. They kissed once, then shut their eyes. Sebastian shook his head. No wonder both of them were sick, they were lying with their heads so close they were practically breathing each other's air. Between that and their intimate habits when the other wasn't feeling their best...Sebastian pushed the thought from his mind. He switched off the television and looked at the couple. Their position now reminded him of two otters he saw at the zoo when he was younger. They had floated together, paws clasped, eyes closed. He had to admit James and Nora made an interesting pair.

"G'night, Seb." They muttered.

He wanted to tell them that it was five in the morning, but instead said, "Night. Yell if you need anything."

Sebastian left and shut the door behind him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. If Nora knew what he knew about James's plan for the fall, it would break her heart.


	21. Reassurances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm eagerly and anxiously anticipating Sunday's premiere. This chapter takes place around two weeks after the last.

"I need you to watch out for Nora."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean? I'm already driving her around and going with her bloody on shopping trips. What more do you want?"

"I don't know how long I'm going to be away. I need you to take care of her." Moriarty brought a cup of tea to his lips. "Remember our arrangement?"

"I do."

"Then you'll need to follow it. I'll be meeting Sherlock soon. Do you remember our plan for that?"

Sebastian swallowed.

"Tiger?"

"Yes. James, I remember the plan for that. But could I at least persuade you–"

"What's done is done." It was Jim who touched Seb's hand, his eyes gentle as they met his. "You know I still care for you, yes?"

Sebastian shook his head. Despite the little moments of care, he often doubted that James felt the way he once did for him.

"Why do you doubt me, tiger? It's not the sex with kitten, is it? Honestly, I didn't think you were the jealous type."

"I'm not. I just know what I've seen." He regretted his words the moment he uttered them. That flicker of Jim was gone.

"Oh, really? And what have you seen, Seb?"

"You _know_ what. M'not bothered by it."

"You're _lying_. My tiger is _lying_. Why would my tiger lie to me? We both know you're bothered when it's in areas where you can see us. Areas where we've done it before." Moriarty grinned when he noticed Sebastian clench his jaw. He raised the cup to his lips. "Ah, so I'm right."

"Are we really going to have this conversation right now?"

"It would seem so. It's long overdue, don't you think?"

Sebastian didn't answer. Instead, he hit _brew_ on the Keurig. If they were going to do this he needed coffee. It was much too early for this discussion, and he was far too tired to dig up raw emotions. Besides, it all ended abruptly nearly two years ago. He wasn't sure what needed saying anymore.

"I know what's been upsetting you: I didn't discuss getting a kitten with you." Moriarty took another sip of tea, then shrugged. "'Honestly didn't think I had to."

The marksman whirled around. "How do you think I felt, Jim? I knew we'd been somewhat distant. I knew we'd likely end up going back to a professional relationship. I certainly didn't think we'd last but, before we could even talk about it, Nora comes along. Not another word about us. Just mild flirting here and there, some teasing about threesomes while you fu—"

"There's no need to be jealous. You and kitten have different body types—"

"I'm not jealous! I just know that, in terms of romance, or whatever it was we were, based on what I've seen, you care for her more than me. You can't deny that."

"I can, and I will."

Sebastian took a sharp breath as James lifted his chin, his mouth hovering just a hairsbreadth from his own. He swallowed. The criminal wanted him to react and Sebastian did just that. The marksman grasped Moriarty's jaw in his hand and closed the space between their lips. He'd forgotten how James tasted. The criminal reciprocated, his hands gripping the collar of Sebastian's shirt. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed his ex-partner's mouth and how stable he made him feel.

Sebastian separated from him. "Don't."

"Don't what? Kiss you?" Moriarty's eyebrows shot up. "Christ, Sebastian, you're the one who initiated it."

"I…we….You've got Nora."

"And?"

"You told her you love her. You never once told me that, James."

Moriarty said nothing. How could he when the marksman was so right?

"She's why we stopped." Sebastian's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "I no longer blame her for it. I blame you."

"Me? I didn't necessarily want to end things."

"Then why did we?"

Moriarty scoffed. "You can't be serious. Seb, you were the one who called us off. Nora was away visiting a friend, I was sitting just there," he pointed at the table, "and you came storming in, said you'd had enough. That you were done, which took me by surprise. Congratulations on that by the way, that doesn't happen often. You wouldn't let me say a word. Just said that you hoped Nora would make me happy and that you and I would keep things professional. Didn't at all ask how I felt."

He softened at his ex's recollection. "It's what was best for us at the time. I wasn't happy with what you'd done. I figured it was me or Nora, and you seemed pretty taken with her. So I took myself out."

"Did you ever consider that maybe I wanted you both?"

"You wanted to have your cake and eat it, too, Jim. You can't always do that. At that point in time, I didn't want you to. It was her or me."

"Oh, Seb," James patted his cheek. "If you had let me talk then, you would have learned what I wanted for the three of us. It would have worked."

"It's working now the way it is."

"Is it?"

Sebastian took a long gulp of his coffee.

"I see the way you look at Nora. I know you don't loathe her anymore. She's never disliked you, you know. The three of us, we work well together. It's not too late—"

"Are you that daft? You beat me until I bled. I only did what you asked. _You_ wanted me and Nora to have sex. _You_ wanted us to have a threesome. But it was also you who nearly knocked my lights out for touching her. So excuse me for thinking twice when you propose we be polyamorous."

"We already are in some ways," said Moriarty.

"James—"

"Just reconsider."

He said nothing.

"Tiger, please?"

Sebastian rubbed his eyes. "I'll think on it."

"That's all I ask." Moriarty stood. "I care about you and kitten just the same. Nora knows that. It's time you learned that now since you weren't aware then."

"Between you and your other half, you can be a bit hard to read, y'know."

"Mm, no. No. I disagree. I'm fairly transparent in that department if you're paying attention. I believe kitten's learned that by now. Seems that it's just my tiger that needs retraining."

"It'd be nice of you to remind me now and again that I'm even on your radar," said Sebastian, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You've always been on my radar. It was I who stopped being on yours."

"You haven't."

"Hm. Well, when I get back, we'll work on that. But for now, I need you to look out for kitten. She'll be worse than last time." Moriarty sighed, "Do as we rehearsed. I'll be back soon."

"Back from where?"

Both men faced the doorway where Nora stood. She blinked expectantly. Though Sebastian knew she hadn't been standing there but a moment, he wondered how much of their discussion she'd heard. He watched Moriarty kiss her and stroke her cheek.

"Nowhere, pet," said the criminal.

"But you said you're going to be back soon. Where are you going?"

"Seb and I have to run an errand later."

She furrowed her brow. "Errand? What kind of errand?"

Moriarty rolled his neck and Sebastian suppressed a smile at his frustration. Nora wasn't as thick as she led others to believe. He could see the cogs turning in her mind. Sebastian knew she'd flood him with questions the minute James was out of earshot.

"Is it related to Sherlock?"

"It's nothing," Moriarty spat. "Now be a good girl, stop talking, and don't worry your _silly_ , _little_ head. Alright?"

After taking a second to steel herself, Nora lifted her chin and said, "But the fall, you said it's happening within the next couple of weeks. What exactly are you going to do with Sherlock? You said the final problem was staying—"

"Nora!" Moriarty put his hands forcefully on her shoulders and shook her once. "Not another word about it. Do you understand me?"

"Y-Yes, Moriarty."

"Thank you. Now go upstairs. I'll be up in a moment."

* * *

"I still believe you."

Sherlock looked over at John. "Oh?"

"You know, she almost had me for a moment." John looked down at his coffee for a moment. "Kitty Riley and 'Richard Brook' said you paid him to be Moriarty. What Riley wrote...it was all….Even though Nora, er 'Eileen' kept up the story that Richard Brook is an actor, both she and Richard acted as though neither of them knew Moriarty existed. She told us she was a poor liar months ago. Well, it showed in the cracks of her story."

The detective crossed the kitchen and pressed his lips against John's. Slightly taken aback, John placed a hand on the counter behind him to steady himself. He set his mug down, then leaned into Sherlock's mouth. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was enough to convey the relief surging through Sherlock's veins. He admired the taste of hazelnut on his partner's lips, and the sobering effect John had on him. The doctor touched his cheek as they separated.

Sherlock mentally sighed. In that moment, he was so thankful for Nora's inability to keep her story straight. He'd almost lost John to Moriarty's lies. He saw the doubt in his eyes the moment he refused to go with Lestrade to the station. That doubt extrapolated after they met with Kitty and Richard. He had hoped that finding Nora would bring John back from Moriarty's fabricated reality. As much as Sherlock hated to admit it, the thought of John losing faith in him scared him. He could handle everyone else turning their backs. Everyone, anyone, but not John.

"I..."

John nodded. "I know."

After one more kiss, the two separated. Sherlock began to pace the length of the kitchen. His mind raced now that he was certain his partner believed him.

John leaned against the counter. "I also know I talked to Nora that day in the bookshop and I know Moriarty was with her. I know what I saw. Nora and Moriarty are real. Richard and Eileen aren't real."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that last statement."

"What do you mean? You know Richard Brook isn't real."

"Yes, but I'm not sure Eileen isn't real."

"What's that supposed to mean? "

"Tell me, did you notice anything different about Nora the other night?"

John shook his head.

Sherlock stopped pacing. "Think back, think harder. Remember how she spoke, her behavior. Did you recall anything at all about her that wasn't similar to how she spoke in our flat?"

"Well, she did seem different."

"Different how?"

"I'm not sure. But she wasn't the same now that you mention it."

"I have a theory that Nora is dichotomous. The woman in the apartment, the woman who was in Bart's, it wasn't Nora. It was her physically, but everything else…"

John furrowed his brow. "Hang on, she came to the lab?"

"Yes, John. Keep up."

"When did that happen?"

Sherlock made a steeple with his hands, then muttered, "A spider like Moriarty would choose someone who is similar to him."

"So a black widow, then?" said John, jesting. The taller man made a face. "Sorry. So you believe Moriarty is dichotomous?"

"Jury's still out, but possibly. Nora thinks she's so clever."

"But you have to admit she is, though." John took a sip of his coffee. "She nearly had me fooled."

"The woman in the lab that day was clever."

"So, Nora, then?"

"No. I'm telling you, John, she wasn't Nora."

"If it's her body, her voice, but her personality isn't similar, wouldn't she still be Nora?"

"Not necessarily."

"She could've had an off day when you saw her. Or, you saw Nora exactly as she was in the lab." John sat down. "After all, she was drugged before the interrogation."

Sherlock took his place in the chair across from his. "When we interrogated Nora, we got the real her. That blubbering mess was not the same as the woman in the lab."

"Then who was she, Sherlock?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!"

John said nothing for a moment, then asked, "Do you believe she actually lost a baby? She seemed rather upset—genuinely upset."

"Not within the last month, but Nora has definitely been pregnant before," said Sherlock. They both knew what that meant for her given Moriarty's person.

"Sherlock, have you ever thought—"

"Once."

John lifted his eyebrows. "Really?"

"But not now." Sherlock took in the silence brought on by his last comment, then said, "Perhaps later."

It would have to be later. Much, much later. Well after this nonsense with Moriarty and his fall.


	22. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated for quite a while about whether or not I should post this chapter. In the end, I opted to go ahead and do it as I felt it was important that what happens, happens.
> 
> As the title suggests, this chapter takes place just after the fall. Nora is a bit out of sorts to say the least.

I shut the book in my lap and unfolded my legs. After tucking my phone into my cardigan pocket, I got to my feet and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, just as I had so many times before. James preferred to have his tea ready to drink when he arrived home. I carefully arranged a tray while I waited for the water to boil.

"Miss." Sebastian watched me from his place at the kitchen table. There was a bit of sadness in his eyes.

"Do we have anymore Hobnobs?" I asked. "James likes those, maybe he'll want them today."

"Monkey…"

I rolled my eyes and shut the door of the cabinet I'd been searching. "Oh, well. He'll be fine without."

Sebastian stood, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. The kettle switched off. His footsteps grew closer as I poured water into a teapot. I could feel the marksman standing behind me, and I tried to ignore it as I continued to prepare Moriarty's daily cuppa just the way he liked. Once I was done, I lifted the tray and turned around. Sebastian stood before me, blocking my path to the living room.

"Seb, please. He'll be home any minute. He'll want his tea."

"Love, _please_." He was using that voice again in an attempt to placate me. "Put the tray down."

"I can't. He'll be arriving soon, and his tea won't be where he wants it."

I took a step forward. Sebastian took the tray from my hands and set it on the counter. I made a face. He clenched his jaw and swallowed. I'd known Sebastian long enough to know that he was trying to calm himself. But what for? He took my hand in his.

"Love, I know this is difficult for you. I need you to look at me when I say this."

I attempted to reach for the tray.

"Nora, stop! Listen to me."

My patience had run thin. Evidently, so had his. The marksman took my chin in his hand. I slapped it away and attempted to hit him, but he caught my wrist. I lifted my leg to kick him. He dodged the blow, releasing me in the process.

"Don't make me do this, monkey," warned Sebastian.

I threw a punch and managed to connect with his cheek. He rolled his eyes, picked me up, and set my bottom on the counter. I tried to kick him again, but he pinned my legs with his hips. Seb gathered my hands in one of his own. Part of me was incredibly turned on by his actions.

" _Look at me_."

I stared up into those blues of his and narrowed my eyes. Only twice before were we rough with one another. I 'won' the first time and left us both bleeding. The second time he 'won' by pinning me on the floor. That time, Moriarty walked in on us and grew aroused by the sight of Sebastian on top of me. He promptly bent me over the chair and made the blonde man watch as he fucked me until we came.

"You can ignore it, and you can fight me, but it's not going to change the fact that he's gone. James Moriarty is dead. He shot himself yesterday. Do you hear me, Nora? _Your master is gone_. You can make tea every bloody day, but he's dead."

A growl left my throat. "You're a bastard."

"You're in denial, monkey. _He's gone_."

"If he's truly gone, why won't you let me see his body."

Sebastian didn't answer. His grip relaxed.

"Tell me! I want to see him. Let me see him!"

"You can't, miss."

"Let me see his body, Seb!" I pressed. "I _need_ to see his body."

"I can't let you do that."

"Why not?"

Sebastian slammed his hand down on the countertop and yelled, "'Cause he instructed me not to!"

" _Fuck him_!" I spat. "If he really is dead like you say he is, then fuck him and let me see his body."

"I can't do that."

"Why are you so loyal to him, but not to me? I want to see him. Take me to the morgue."

"I'm equally loyal to you, which is why I won't let you see him. Your last memory of him shouldn't be of that."

"Fuck him…" My breath hitched in my throat. My chest tightened and I released a sob. "Fuck him for leaving me this way."

Sebastian wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and kissed the top of my head. I realized then that I hadn't yet cried. When he told me the news, I didn't exactly react. I suppose it was because what he'd said didn't fully register in my mind. I thought it was all a joke. James had said he'd be back soon. He couldn't be dead if he were coming back soon. My job was to wait for him, to be here following routines until he came back as he'd promised. And he would come back. There was no way James would do that to himself. That wasn't part of the plan. I swiped my hands across my cheeks and caught Sebastian's eyes.

"What am I going to do?"

He sighed. "Remember when you were worried about not getting him off on that Crown Jewels crime, and I told you that I would take care of you?"

"I do."

"That hasn't changed. Understand?"

I nodded.

"You're still my monkey, alright?"

I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I covered his lips with my own. Sebastian took my jaw in his hands and leaned into me. I placed a hand behind me to brace myself as my mouth opened to accept his tongue. His hand slid up my thigh. He sucked on my bottom lip. A moan escaped my throat. I reached between us and tugged at his belt. Sebastian broke the kiss. He took a step back, shaking his head.

"No, no, no. Nora, no."

"Please?" I asked.

"I know you're upset. You're...you're grieving—we're grieving. But we can't, we shouldn't."

"But, we never got to, a-a-and now we can."

"No."

"I thought you wanted me."

"I do."

Hearing him admit it made my stomach drop. James had told me once that he wanted the three of us to be in a proper relationship. I shook the thought from my mind. "Then, why won't you—"

"Not like this. Not when you just want me 'cause James is gone and I have the parts you need to get off."

"That's not true."

" _Isn't it_?"

"Please?" I reached forward. "You'll make it better."

He shoved his fingers through his hair. "Don't. You'll regret it."

"No, _you're_ afraid you'll regret it, because you want this. Don't you, Seb?"

"Nora..." Sebastian's hand disappeared beneath my skirt and settled on the apex of my thighs. He bit his bottom lip. His voice was thick when he spoke. "You don't know what you're doing, or what you're asking for."

I leaned back against my palms. "I'm a big girl, Sebastian. I'm capable of making my own decisions. I know what I want— _whom_ I want."

"We shouldn't."

"Says the man whose hands are dangerously close to my knickers."

Sebastian licked his lips. "Boss wouldn't like it."

"You claim he's dead, so why would it matter?"

"Fuck me."

I scoffed. "I'm trying to."

Sebastian fixed me with a look. My eyes narrowed.

"You're not going to do it, are you?"

He brought his face closer to mine. I'd parted my lips to retort when Sebastian took my mouth. He yanked my knickers off. I gasped. As Seb pushed my skirt up my hips, his right thumb brushed against my folds. He smirked.

"James always said he loved how wet he could make you. Guess he's not the only one."

"Guess not." I tilted my head. "Seb, are we _really_ going to do this here? I thought you didn't like it in the common areas."

"I don't." Sebastian nipped at my ear and whispered, "Take that clever arse upstairs. My bedroom. _Now_."

He set me on my feet. His palm met my bottom as I turned to do as I was told. He followed after me, taking the steps two at a time. I wasn't prepared for what followed. Our lips met the moment we entered his room. The remainder of my clothes hit the floor. I scrambled to unzip his trousers. Freeing him from his boxers proved easier than I'd expected. He kicked them off and to the side. As I stroked his length, I admired how thick he felt in my hands. I guided us to his bed until his mattress hit the back of his legs. We toppled onto the comforter, and I found myself straddling him. Seb rolled me onto my back as we kissed. I pulled him closer to me, my legs spread, the swollen head of his member teasing my entrance. I bucked my hips.

"Naughty little girl," said Sebastian with a grin. "Someone needs to be taught patience."

I whined in need.

"Alright, monkey. Hang on."

He rolled his eyes with a lopsided grin and reached for the drawer of his beside table. It genuinely surprised me when he produced a condom. Seb ripped open the wrapper and, in a few short, careful motions, rolled on the prophylactic. The action made the aching between my legs that much more unbearable. He granted me another kiss.

"Safety first, love. If boss does come back, I'd rather I didn't have to explain why you're pregnant. I've seen you through too much pain, monkey."

"Sebastian." I wasn't exactly sure what to say. I stroked the back of his neck.

"But just so you know, James and I are very different. So, if it were to happen between the two of us, I want you to know that I wouldn't make you end it. I think you deserve to have happiness. You've given up too much of that for 'im."

Before I could respond, he aligned himself with my center. I crossed my ankles behind the small of his back.

"I'll be gentle, yeah?"

I nodded.

The marksman pressed his forehead against mine. Our fingers laced and our eyes met as he filled me. I let out a moan when he stopped. It was honestly the most intimate moment I'd had in years.

"Better?" he asked.

"Loads."

"Before we go too far, do you want to keep going this way, or do you want to be on top?"

"On top."

"That's what I thought." Sebastian pulled out and sat with his back against the headboard. He patted his lap. "C'mere, little girl."

I lowered myself onto him and gasped as I took him in. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be on top. Seb gripped my waist, gazing up at me in lust.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous. Are you sure you still want this?"

I braced my hands on the wall behind him. He supported my back as I ground my hips against his. The feeling against my clit turned me into a moaning mess.

"Aww, look at ya. Does it feel good?" I nodded. Sebastian kissed my collarbone. He drove his thumb into my already sensitive bundle of nerves, kneading soft circles that sent me biting my lip. "What about that?"

My head lolled to the side. " _Sebastian_..."

"That's it, monkey."

I increased my speed, eager to feel even better than before. I'd missed taking control of my own pleasure in bed, and doing what would help get me off. James rarely let me do this. I'd missed this feeling. My breasts bounced and Sebastian took to teasing them with his tongue and free hand. The sensation of his mouth against my nipples made me shake. I felt myself inch closer to my release. But it wasn't quite enough.

"Seb," I swallowed. "Please...just fuck me."

"Are you sure?"

" _Please_."

Once I dismounted him, Sebastian got to his feet. I giggled when he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him. I stabilized myself on my hands and knees. He kissed the small of my back. Within moments, he'd buried himself deep inside me. I cried out. His thrusts were sharp and purposeful. His fingers worked with his actions to get me off. I sighed. He made quick work of it. Containing my pleasure grew more difficult. His hips grew more more erratic. It didn't take long before I came and he followed close after. Tears stung my eyes. We collapsed beside each other. I looked to Sebastian, who looked back at me, that sadness from earlier had returned to his eyes.

"Are you alright, Nora? I-I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, you were excellent..." my voice trailed off. My throat constricted. All of the air left my chest. I dug my fingers into his skin. I trembled against him as another sob wracked my body. The marksman held me close.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You're not him."

Sebastian lifted my chin. "This is why I said we shouldn't."

"You regret it?" I asked.

"No! Of course not. I don't regret it, you know how I feel about you, but neither of us needed to do this tonight. 'S not right. It's too soon. I didn't want you getting hurt."

"But I wanted it."

"But I should have said 'no' and meant it."

"No. You should have stopped Moriarty from doing it."

"I know."

My mind rushed to that last day. I should have known something was wrong then. 

* * *

   
_"Nora!"_

_The pistol in Moriarty's hands made me stop. A tremor worked its way from my fingers to my body. He got physical with me plenty of times, but he never, ever, pulled a gun on me. Once when he was cutting vegetables for lunch, I'd upset him and he threatened me with a butcher knife. But never, ever a gun. He didn't like to dirty his hands, and guns were Sebastian's forte. I don't believe Seb would ever threaten me with a gun. I couldn't handle having a gun pointed in my direction.  
_

_"Are you scared, pet?"_

_What kind of question was that? I didn't answer. Moriarty took a step closer to me._

_"What if I did it? Ended it all for you. Leave Seb a beautiful surprise."_

_I swallowed. "Don't."_

_"I know you want each other. If I left, you'd fuck him, wouldn't you? Make him moan. Can't say I'd blame you though. He's quite a catch. But what if I stop you before you get another chance to taste him?" Moriarty placed the gun to my temple. "It's been quite some time since I've seen my tiger cry."_

_"James, please don't. Stop it."_

_He rolled his eyes and pocketed the gun. I mentally sighed. "You're no fun. Besides, it's not even loaded, pet. I had you going for a moment, didn't I?"_

_"Of course you did!" I brought my hand to my chest. "What the hell were you playing at?"_

_"I should have desensitized you more. You frighten too easily."_

_"What are you doing with that anyway?" I asked. "I thought you weren't overly fond of firearms. You told me that was Sebastian's job."_

_"I did, and it is. However, Sherlock and I have a rendezvous that requires an additional trigger."_

_Something felt off about his statement. I frowned._

_"You'll wrinkle early if you keep making faces like that, pet. Now, come here. I want to fuck you."_

_"How romantic."_

_Moriarty rested his hands on my bottom. "I'll be gone for a while, pet. I want to make sure you remember how I feel."_

* * *

  
I should have known he'd been acting stranger than usual. I should have known his plan with Sherlock would end with both of them dead. The headlines of the papers were unforgiving. The detective was gone. My lover was dead. It didn't make sense. I couldn't let it make sense. I was falling apart. I was cracking. This time wasn't like last time in Dublin, yet it strangely was. I was feeling the same crushing feeling I did that night when I stood in the Chairwoman's kitchen, sobbing into the phone to the police that she was choking to death. I recognized what the feeling was, I was panicking. Jim was dead. Moriarty was dead. They were dead. He...he was dead. _Dead_. The word felt so final. I didn't want to believe it. But Sebastian looked so upset yesterday. No. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it. Both Moriarty and Sherlock were brilliant minds. There was no way either of them came to Bart's without an exit strategy. Neither of them would go gently to their deaths. They were both alive. They had to be.

"Sebastian," I whispered.

He looked at me, but said nothing.

"Take me to Baker Street."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to worry, James will be back.


	23. Please

"No," said Sebastian. "Absolutely not."

I freed myself from his arms and got to my feet. Lifting my bra from the floor, I put it back on and searched for my shirt.

"Hang on! Oi! Don't be like that. Hear me out, yeah?"

When I turned to face him, he was pulling on his boxers. My eyes drifted to the bin beside his nightstand where I noticed the condom we'd used wrapped haphazardly in a tissue. My arousal had left my upper thighs sticky and made me realize that both Sebastian and I needed to clean up. Shame began to flood my thoughts. I willed it to go away, but it was like a Post-It note to the front of my mind. The elastic on the waistband snapped against his skin, bringing me back to reality briefly. Sebastian stood upright. His hair stuck out at odd angles. I immediately thought back to just moments before, our pelvises grinding, my hands gripping his hair for a moment as I worked to get myself off on top of him.

I closed my eyes. My cheeks burned. I'd done what I wanted, but why did I feel awful about it? I wondered if it was because I'd cheated on someone who might not have been dead. I opened my eyes. Moriarty had found himself a home so deep in my psyche, that even in his absence, I found myself wanting to obey him and feeling shameful doing for anything he would disapprove of that brought me happiness. That said, I'm certain that, while he'd be unhappy at first and incredibly jealous, he would be okay with Sebastian and I doing what we did. I'd learned as much when I overheard that conversation of his in the kitchen. James wanted to start things back up with Seb and he also, from what I could tell, wanted Seb to start things with me. James wanted it all. But he'd gone now. So where did that leave Sebastian and me? Where did he  _want_  that to leave Sebastian and me when he did it?

I focused my attention on the blonde, who had now stepped closer to me, a pair of drawstring shorts in his outstretched hand.

"...big on you, but it'll cover you up while we chat since I think I ruined your knickers when I pulled them off. Sorry." Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll, uh, buy you new ones tomorrow."

"It's okay," I said, taking the pajama bottoms. His thoughtfulness was actually him leveling the playing field. I wasn't sure if he knew I knew that. James adored it when I was left exposed and Seb knew that. He wasn't the type that enjoyed witnessing the criminal's style of power play with me. After slipping the shorts on, I tugged the string tight around my hips. "Thanks."

"Erm, I...I think you ought to stay home. Watson's grieving, alright? You don't need to go to Baker Street—not today anyway. Nora, he just lost Sherlock. There's no telling what he'd do to you, or what you'd do to him."

I gave a short laugh. "What  _I'd_  do to him?"

"Yes. You're not stable right now—"

" _I'm_  not stable? I'm fine, Sebastian."

"You're not fine," he pressed.

"I'm fine. I'm bloody fantastic!"

"You're in denial about James's death."

"Will you  _stop_  saying that? I'm not in denial."

"Sherlock won't be there, love." Seb brought his hands to my shoulders. There was something gentle about his tone. "He pitched himself off the roof. Going to Baker Street won't make him be there any more than sleeping with me made James come back."

 _How dare he?_  I shoved away his hands, then pointed at him. "Let's get one thing straight, I  _fucked_  you because  _I_  wanted to. Not because I thought James would come back."

He ignored my comment. "You're staying here for the time being. Besides, we have to plan how we're going to bury James."

"We'll just throw him in a box, toss it in the ground. Better yet, just burn him up."

"I know you don't mean that. There's headstones to pick out. We have to make plans—"

"You do them."

" _Nora_ …"

His tone said it all and, at this point, I honestly didn't care. I was just angry. "If you want my help, you'll stop being a dick. You'll take me to Baker Street."

"I'm not doing that. At least not today, anyway."

"Then have fun planning a funeral alone."

Sebastian stood dumbfounded by my words. He recovered quickly. "I know you don't mean that."

"Don't I?" I headed toward the door. In three quick strides, he was standing before me in the threshold. I stopped. "Move, Seb. I need to clean up."

"I'm not like, James. I won't hit you, or fuck you until you do as I say, but I'm not above being dominant. After all, that's what you seem to love."

"C'mon, Seb. D'you honestly think I'm going to do as you say?"

"No. I know you're going to do as you're told." When I gasped at his remark, Sebastian lowered his head into his hand. He rubbed his face for a moment then looked at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, you did."

"I didn't. I...l…" he sighed. "Don't go to Baker Street tonight, alright? Don't make me order you, monkey. Please? I don't want to be like him. I'm not like him."

"Well, you're well on your way. Aren't you?"

"Nora."

I pushed my way past him and headed for the stairs. I needed to shower and eat something, but I also needed to make my break for Baker Street while I still had the power in the conversation. Seb had offended me and that made him still malleable. About five steps down, the marksman began to follow after me. Ignoring him came easy.

"Nora," called Seb. "Please? We need to talk."

Once I reached the base of the stairs, I faced Sebastian and looked up at him. "Well, I don't. What I need is to go to Baker Street, and you're going to take me."

He stepped onto the floor with me and folded his arms. "I don't think—"

"Oh, I'm not asking. You're taking me."

"Or?"

"I'll make you regret it. I can do things to you and you know that."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Take me to Baker Street, Seb. I don't want to hurt you."

Seb put his hands on his knees. I looked him straight in the eyes, and he back into mine. "I've been with James for quite a while, monkey. He's threatening. You and her, the cocktail may bother me, but it certainly don't frighten me. M'not going to fight you again."

"Then take me to Baker Street."

"You need sleep. Let's go to bed."

"I'm not tired."

"You are." He straightened. "Actually, what you really need is to grieve. We both need to."

"I cried upstairs."

"That wasn't grieving. You're still angry."

"And I'm not allowed to be?"

"That's not what I said."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you need to stay here for a bit!" snapped Seb. "You need to eat. You need to cry, be angry, wallow, I don't care. But you, you need to let it sink in." He took a frustrated breath. "Look, I love you."

I blinked at Sebastian's words. He'd said them to me before, but this time it wasn't nearly as potent as usual, and that's what stopped me. I almost felt unworthy of his affection. Sebastian's hands drifted to my jaw.

"D'you hear me? I love you. You know I love you, right? That's why I can't let you go, monkey. I don't want you to. I know you need to, that you want to, but it's not wise. Not just yet. Not while the media is having their frenzy, and the papers are saying things about Sherlock and James. It's not safe. Stay here. Let your own grief set in first."

"But I need to talk to—"

"It's okay to be mad at him."

"What?"

"It's okay to be mad at James. You're pissed at him. I'm pissed at him. That's...that's what all of this was about," he gestured at the two of us, "wasn't it?"

"Partly." I whispered. "I'm sorry. I di—"

"I know. Which is why I think it's best for you to stay here for the time being. He only just left. Let John mourn. Let him bury his heart. Let us bury ours."

"But what if he's not dead? What if they're both still out there? Sebastian, I know James."

"I know him, too."

"But we know him differently...separately. Seb...I can't let Jim go. I still feel like he's here. Call me a nutter, alright, but I feel him. I do. He's right here." I pointed to the base of my skull. "His feeling is there. I can't let him go because I know what I'm feeling is true. You won't let me see his body. At least let me see John. Please? He'd help shake the feeling that it's not right and they're both out there."

"C'mere." I allowed Sebastian to hold me against his chest. After a moment, I stood on my toes to kiss him, but he drew back. "No."

"Why not?"

"We're not ready for any of that right now. Now, about Baker Street, will you listen?" When I shook my head, he groaned. "Please?"

"No. I'm going, Sebastian, and you're not going to stop me."

* * *

I stared out of the window at the rain and people. It took ten minutes for me to rinse off, re-dress, and return downstairs. Sebastian refused to be the one to drive me to Baker Street, so I was forced to hail a cab. The car nearly drove off, when he ran out the door and decided to come with me. He said I couldn't be trusted alone right now, not in my present state. I wondered if he had point. Uncrossing my legs, I adjusted my position. Sebastian had left me both satisfied and incredibly sore. My mind drifted back to the conversation I'd overheard the other day between Seb and Moriarty. I almost hated that James was right. The three of us would have been a proper relationship. Sebastian listened, he was kind, he let me take control in bed, he took care of me, he cared about me. Sebastian was everything I loved about Jim but could never get from him because Moriarty was the dominant one. Moriarty gave me everything I  _desired_. He was rough, he was a phenomenal fuck, he spoiled me, he satisfied my wretched side. In Jim, he had moments of kindness and he could be gentle. I loved James Moriarty. I cared about Sebastian Moran. I knew if things were different, if James's jealousy weren't so intense, if he weren't supposedly gone, that it would be right. I'd go along with James's idea and take them both, be polyamorous for a change. It wouldn't even be that much different from where I was now with both men.

Someone touched me and I jumped. Realizing it was Sebastian, I relaxed and allowed him to lace his fingers with mine. He kissed the back of my hand. I crossed my legs. Half of me wanted him again, the other half still couldn't shake that shame from shagging him in the first place. The marksman was dead on in what he'd said earlier. Having sex with him wouldn't bring Moriarty back and it certainly wouldn't make me miss him any less.

"Turn around," I said.

The driver met eyes with me in the mirror. "I'm sorry?"

"Turn around. Go back. I changed my mind."

Sebastian blinked at me. "You're serious?"

"Which is it?" asked the driver. "Turn around, or head straight on?"

I rubbed my nose. "Go back."

The driver turned down a road that would get us back home. Seb watched me out of the corner of his eye.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said with a shrug. "Wondering what changed your mind, is all."

"I can't," I admitted.

"Can't what?"

"Face Watson. Not yet, I mean. Well, I think, anyway." I sat up straighter and leaned forward. "Um, excuse me? Can you go back? Toward Baker Street, I mean."

The driver's frustration grew. "But you just said—"

"I know what I said. I changed my mind again. Is that fine with you?"

"Make up your mind, woman!"

"My husband just died, you dick!"

The car grew silent. Sebastian stared at me. I didn't blame him. I wasn't quite sure where my outburst had come from either, or why I called the criminal my husband. The ride to Baker Street was speedier than I'd anticipated. I stuck Sebastian with paying the fare as I jumped out of the car and ran into the unlocked flat. An older woman greeted me when I came in. I muttered that I needed to see John and rushed up the stairs. She followed after me.

"Miss, I wouldn't go up there. I really wouldn't. Now is not a good time. Maybe Scotland Yard would be best if you're in need of help."

I ignored her and entered 221B. "You really shouldn't leave both doors unlocked like that."

At the sight of me, John scoffed. To say the soldier looked worse for wear was an understatement. His bloodshot eyes and the stale smell of him told me that he'd been drinking and hadn't bothered keeping up with his appearance since The Fall. I stepped deeper into the flat. Sherlock's chair was empty. I could immediately tell the detective hadn't been home in days. It honestly  _felt_  like Sherlock was gone. My eyes felt as though they were burning. I willed myself not to cry. He couldn't be gone. He just couldn't.

"Perfect!" John spat. The older woman, who was still hovering behind me, scurried away. He pointed his finger at me sharply, then dropped his hand to his side. " _Exactly_  who I need to see at  _this_  particular moment in my life! What the  _hell_  are you doing here?"

"Where's Sherlock?" I asked.

His body language actually made me fearful. He rolled his neck and took a deep breath. "You are a piece of work. You of all people should know."

I steeled myself. "Why? Why should I know? My mast—my—my Jim is dead. Where is Sherlock?"

"With your Jim."

"Meaning?"

"He jumped," John's voice crescendoed. "Solved the final problem that  _your Jim_  created! The man I love is dead. Now tell me just what the bloody hell you are doing here, besides rubbing salt in my wounds!"

"The man I love is also dead. Blew himself away." I felt my knees start to give and braced myself on the door frame. "James is...he's gone, John."

Sebastian cleared his throat. "Nora, that's quite enough. Let's go."

"Not yet."

"You ought to listen to your keeper." John picked up an overly full glass of scotch. He took a large drink and swallowed with a grimace. "Why are you here, Nora?"

I wrung my hands a few times. "I thought maybe Sherlock was alive. He's clever. I thought he'd find a way out."

"Well, he didn't. You lied to me and told me you weren't Nora, that you were Eileen. Made everyone believe Moriarty was an actor and now….You got what you wanted."

"Sherlock dead isn't what I wanted."

"Oh?"

"I didn't want him to die, John. Honestly." I sighed. I meant it, Eileen didn't. She truly wanted Sherlock dead. She would be elated if it weren't for the fact that James was gone. "I'm so sorry."

John said nothing. I allowed myself to sink to the floor. I tried to calm myself. This wasn't what I wanted. Sebastian tried to offer me help, but I pushed him away.

"I always thought we'd die together," I felt myself chuckle. "I always thought he'd kill me, then take his own life. Maybe something would cause Seb to lose it and take James and I out as we slept."

"I wouldn't," said Seb. "You know that."

"I didn't think the fall would happen this way. James…Sherlock…. They can't see what they've done to us, John."

John lunged forward with his hand outstretched as though he were going to pull me to my feet by my arm. Sebastian stepped in front of me. He not-so-gingerly helped me stand. "Nora, go wait in the car."

The soldier scoffed. "Both of you get out of my flat."

I took a step forward. "John,  _please_."

"Go!" When I failed to move, he threw his glass on the floor, causing me to jump. "I said 'go'!"

"John, I'm sorry."

"Get the hell out!"

As Sebastian ushered me out of the door, I couldn't help but to feel terrible for what I'd done. Sherlock was dead and it was as much my fault as it was Moriarty's. I thought I would be happy. I thought Sherlock would somehow still be alive when I arrived, or that I would learn that he was in hospital somewhere badly injured. I hadn't considered what it would mean for him to truly be dead. I hadn't thought about the possibility of James dying with him. Worst of all, I hadn't anticipated hearing the horrible sound of John sobbing and having it haunt me on the ride home.


	24. Senses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one picks up where the last left off. It was interesting writing Seb for this one, so I hope you like it.

"Hey, I know what will relax you. I'll make you some chips and you'll have a bath. How's that sound? Sounds good, doesn't it?"

I wasn't sure what sounded good anymore. I rested my head on Sebastian's shoulder, allowing myself to zone out. When I came back to my senses, I was in a bathtub with water up to my breasts and a heaviness in my stomach from what I assumed was greasy potatoes. I tried to remember the marksman cooking for me, but all I could recall was making a few slices too many of cheese on toast before going to have a bath. Seb knelt beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, an exfoliating mitten on his hand.

"Seb," I whispered. "He's gone."

"I know, monkey. Look at the colors in the water."

I glanced down at the water and noticed the purples and blues swirling together.

Seb carefully scrubbed my arm. "I used one of those bath bombs you picked out last time. Keep watching the water. It'll distract you."

"Seb, he's gone."

"I know, miss." He removed the mit and squeezed shampoo into his hand. His fingers massaged my scalp as he lathered the soap into my hair. "Be a good girl and just focus on me or look at the water."

"Sebastian, stop treating me like a child. Moriarty is dead and all you can go on about is bath bombs. According to you, James shot himself."

"According to me?"

"Yeah. You could have been the one to do it. You're a great shot. I don't see James—"

"Do you honestly think I'd do that to him? To you or us?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"I didn't," said Sebastian. "I wouldn't."

"I'm never going to see him again." When he said nothing, I carried on. "I feel like my insides are on fire. It hurts to breathe. Everything hurts."

"I understand."

"No, you don't."

" _Excuse me_?"

I wiped soap away from my forehead. "You don't give a damn. If you did, you'd be crying right now. If you did, you'd let me see his body. You wouldn't be bathing me like a toddler. Making me chips, trying to get me to see that what's happened is normal. You want to know why I think you did it? Because you're sitting here unbothered. If James had done it, you'd actually be upset."

" _I'm_ not upset?" Sebastian's voice started to rise. "Are you fucking mad? You don't think that I'm upset that James is dead?!"

"Well, you're certainly not acting like it."

He grabbed my cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and, with more force than he'd ever used with me before, turned my head towards him. For a brief moment I thought he'd snap my neck. But I knew better. I looked up at him, fear causing my heart to race. A cross Sebastian was not one to test and I'd done it. I'd done it quite a few times today.

"Seb, I'm sorry," I breathed. "I'm sorry."

"You think I'm not upset? I'm terribly upset. I watched him do it, you know. Don't tell me I'm not in the least bit bothered by James's death. I was given strict instructions not to let you near his body, understand? Do you know I'm only bathing you and feeding you so that you don't waste away and so that I can distract myself? I've known James for much longer than you, love. I care for him as much as you do, if not more."

"Seb…"

"You are _my_ responsibility. James made you my charge. In addition to me ensuring you don't take yourself with him, I have to keep you well. As of now, you are the only thing left of his that's _breathing_. You are his love, you are the only thing intact that reminds me of him. I cannot lose you too, understand?" I nodded and he released my face. "Now shut your eyes. I have to rinse your hair."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You're in pain. We both are."

"Please forgive me."

"You can't just act this way, Nora." Sebastian poured a cup of water on my hair. "You act like you're the only one who feels anything in any situation. It's incredibly selfish, love. You've got to think about someone other than yourself once in awhile, right? It's human. And, you know, I get she makes you a machine but you can't act that way. James is like that too, and don't think for a second that I haven't told him about himself a few times, cause I have. Just selfish, the both of you."

I turned toward the marksman and noticed just how upset I'd made him. He was holding back, but I could see tears starting to form in his eyes. "Sebastian, I'm sorry."

"Yes, you are."

"Sebastian."

"I fall for these people, like James and you, who couldn't be arsed with how I feel, or what I want. Who think it's fine because I'm just Seb. Silly ol' Seb. I give and I give, and for what? For you both to take advantage of me? To be your errand boy and caretaker? To be the one you tease and kick...an occasional fucktoy?!" Sebastian threw the cup in the water, causing me to jump. I'd never seen him rant this way. He rubbed his eyes. "Because I'm off-limits. I'm not allowed to properly be loved by either of you, oh no. Just when it's convenient. Of course, only then."

"Seb…" I reached out to touch his shoulder, but he moved away. "Sebastian, please."

"No, I'm tired, Nora. I lost James. I had him much longer than you, and you act like he's yours. What you feel, I feel. I've felt it every wretched moment since the day he brought you home and set me aside. Even if he comes back, think of how he is. He said he loved you, yeah? He never truly did with me but he acted like it, then he got you. What's to stop him from sending you off when he comes back? Don't you get it, Nora? He's neither of ours. He doesn't care about either of us, or he'd have told us his grand plan was to blow his brains across the rooftop."

I watched him finally lose his senses. Sebastian sat on the floor and thrust his face into his palms. His heavy gasps and sniffs sent worry through my chest. I'd never seen him cry, let alone act like this. Between Moriarty's actions and mine in the last few days, I wondered if we'd broken him. I touched his back. "Sebastian."

"We don't deserve to be treated that way," he sobbed. "If he could trust us with tasks, he could damn well trust us with his life. We could have helped him survive."

"Seb, we can't change what he did. You know him. He'd have done what he wanted regardless of what we could or couldn't have done. I've been tearing myself apart trying to figure out what I could've done. If I'd taken the gun, if I'd gone with him, if I'd killed Sherlock in the lab, I could've stopped so much from happening. Yet, I didn't. I couldn't have. You couldn't have either."

He didn't respond. I opened the drain, got out of the tub, and wrapped a towel around myself. As the blonde continued crying, I realized that my own grief had caused me to join him. I wiped my eyes and knelt beside him on the bath rug. I wasn't sure how to help him so I touched his shoulder. He shrugged me off. After securing my towel, I sat beside him and rested my head on his shoulder, half expecting him to push me away.

I took in my surroundings and realized for the first time that night that Sebastian had taken me to his bathroom. It made sense. He wouldn't dare enter the one I shared with Moriarty without him present. I'd never been in Sebastian's bathroom. The color scheme was soothing enough with it's grey walls and deep blue towels. It smelled like him with a touch of lemon. The vanity countertop held his toothbrush, razor, a pack of cigarettes, a wash towel, Vaseline, shaving cream, aftershave, and an open tube of toothpaste squeezed to hell from the middle.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed on the floor crying with him. It was long enough for my body to dry and for my head to begin to ache. A chill crept down my spine.

Sebastian curled an arm around my shoulder, then kissed the side of my head. "Monkey, let's get you dressed."

I allowed him to help me stand as I dragged my palm across my cheek. "I'm sorry, Sebastian."

"Don't be."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. It was long overdue."

I noticed the stubble forming on his jaw. The fatigue reflected in his eyes made me feel even more awful about my attempt to call him out. I had no idea what Sebastian was going through, and I was naïve to think that I did. If he felt even a fraction of what I felt, then I deserved every bit of his fury.

"Hey." He raised my chin. "I mean it. We were both cross. It's done. I'm not upset with you."

"I wasn't trying to use you, Seb. I do...love you." I swallowed. Now I understood how saying those words could be so hard for someone. I steeled myself. "I love you, Sebastian."

"You know I love you just the same."

I shook my head. He likely loved me much more than I loved him. He pecked my forehead and hesitated for a moment before opting to kiss my lips. I pulled myself closer to him. Seb wrapped his arms around my waist and shoulders, the tips of our tongues meeting as our mouths closed against each other's. When he stopped, he gazed at me. I nodded. Part of me realized then that I was answering more than one question. Sebastian took my hand and I followed him to his bedroom with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty returns in the next chapter!


	25. Cemetery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Watson makes a brief return in this one, and I keep to a promise I made in the last chapter. Enjoy!

"Are you ready, monkey?"

The wind blew leaves past my feet and I listened to them skitter down the mausoleum floor. I couldn't bring myself to stand. The priest had long since gone, as had a few of the couples James and I acquainted ourselves with. They'd muttered apologies, gave me tight hugs, reminded their spouses that this situation is one they wanted to avoid in their own lives when they thought I wasn't in earshot. Then they disappeared. It was just Sebastian and me. Just as it was, just as it had been the last week. The staff cleaned up. My chair was the last and they'd left it behind when they realized I wasn't going to move.

"Monkey, you've got to get up," said Sebastian while putting out his cigarette. He blew out the last of the smoke from his lungs. "C'mon. I don't want to have to move you. Let's go. It's done. He's...he's gone. He's in there now." He rapped his knuckles on a placard that said _James Moriarty_ in a thick serif font.

The sound sent a surge of bumps down my arms. I silently willed myself to stand. Seb slid his arm around my waist. I didn't push him away. I thought back to two nights ago when we both were hit with James's loss in Seb's bathroom. Sleeping with Sebastian that night was gentle and perfect. He held me close as I slept against his body with my head tucked beneath his chin, his legs tangled with mine, our pelvises dangerously close. We nearly fucked the next morning. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I let him eat me out instead. It was momentarily satisfying, but did nothing to fill that hole. Sebastian wasn't James. He would never be James. 

"One more miracle, Sherlock."

The voice caught my attention. No, it couldn't be. I stopped and scanned the cemetery. John Watson stood beneath a tree with his head bowed and his focus solely on the grave of his partner. I felt myself running toward him. I needed to see Sherlock's grave. I slowed to a walk as I got closer, my breath easing by the time I reached the soldier. He willed Sherlock to not be dead, a sentiment I shared for James. Guilt rested heavy on my shoulders. If I hadn't managed to smear Sherlock's reputation, perhaps the fall wouldn't have ended this way.  

"That's a lovely grave," I whispered. It was. The dark headstone reminded me of Sherlock. There was no doubt that the name etching reflected the stoic figure to whom it belonged. "Suits him."

John turned. "Nora?"

"Hello, John Watson. I'm sorry to pry. I was...James is up the hill. I was just…."

"Saying goodbye?"

I nodded.

His fatigue showed in the dips around his eyes. "About my behavior the other night, I was out of line."

"You were drunk and mourning. It's fine. I'd've done the same, I suppose."

"I guess we both lost someone we cared about." The saddened half-smile John gave hurt my heart. "If you ever need to talk sometime, I'm around. I also have a great therapist. I could refer you—"

"That's sweet of you, doctor. Really."

"It's nothing. Take care, Nora. I know they were enemies, but…" John's voice trailed off.

I glanced at my feet. "You gave me water and listened to me when I talked. Sherlock was like Jim, only wanted to play the game. You're  _human_ , John. Don't...don't lose that."

Walking toward the waiting car became a bit easier. There was a sense of finality washing over me. Sherlock was gone. Jim was buried. Sebastian and I were utterly alone; not as alone as John, but still empty just the same. It all made no sense and perfect sense at the same time. I hated it. I hated this silly game of theirs and where it landed us. I climbed into the back of the limo across from the marksman. The silence as the driver took us away made the air around me heavy.

I grabbed a remote from the storage area and flicked on the telly. A newscaster stood on Baker Street.

" _...Sherlock Holmes, following his suicide earlier this week. The detective's credibility was called into question shortly after the Moriarty trial._   _John Watson, the detective's alleged partner broke his silence hours ago._ "

Previously recorded footage of John standing outside the front door of 221 began to air.

" _I lost...I…._ " John struggled to say the words. He cleared his throat. " _Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant man. I thank you all for your kindness even though many of you were also the ones to tie his noose."_

Cameras flashed and reporters continued questioning him as he turned away and entered the flat. I couldn't take the press coverage of this mess anymore. Sebastian didn't like me watching it and I could see why. I switched it off. My mind raced with all that Jim left behind in regards to the intricate web he'd created as a consulting criminal. I'd known of at least four people he was currently helping, but Jim only let on to me about a small segment of his clients. Sebastian was the one that knew about every last one of his involvements. I chewed my lip. What would happen now that he was gone? Would Seb take over? Would I?

"What about his clients?" I glanced at Seb and felt myself begin to panic. "Jim's got too many clients, too many fucking pokers in the fire. I can't take them on!"

Sebastian shushed me. "Let me worry about them. I've been dealing with them much longer than you have. I can keep up. Speaking of which, what time is it?"

"Quarter past two. Why? Don't tell me you have a job."

"Yes, when we get back. It'll be quick." It always was, but that wasn't the point. He rubbed the back of his neck. "The problem, however, is you."

I blinked. "What about me?"

"I can't trust you alone. Not in this...state. Not after we just buried James."

I opened my mouth to retort when my mobile pinged. Slipping it out of my pocket, I half-heartedly checked the screen. 

 

> _Happy birthday to you,_

I furrowed my brow at the text. There was no name, and the phone number was unfamiliar to me. It definitely wasn't my birthday. Another message quickly followed. 

 

> _Happy birthday to you,_

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Who was this? A dash before a signature yet no name. I contemplated blocking the number.

"More condolences?" asked Sebastian. He'd turned his attention to me after my text tone went off for a second time. He tilted his head to get a look at my expression. "What's wrong?"

"Not sure. I think someone has the wrong number but—" The swoosh of the next text shut me up.

 

> _Happy birthday, dearest pet_

Had I not already been sitting, I would've fallen. I stared at the text. Nausea churned my stomach while my throat constricted. No. No, it couldn't be.

"Nora, what's wrong?"

The final message came through. 

 

> _Happy birthday to you.  
>  _ _\- JM_

My heart stopped. It was Jim. It couldn't be Jim. It was definitely Jim. "Sebastian?" I asked. He hummed in reply. I held out my phone so he could see the messages from the man we loved. "Did you know?"

"Did I know what?" Seb's eyes flicked from side to side as he read the screen. I watched his expression change. His slight annoyance melted from his face, along with the color in his cheeks. His eyes widened. "What the ever-loving fuck! What are you playing at?"

"Me?" I pulled the phone back in front of me in time to see three ellipses appear. Jim was actively texting me. Jim was alive. I felt a surge of anger and relief. How could he do this to me?

"Fuck!" Sebastian rolled up the partition. "Fucking...fuck!" 

"Exactly."

 

> _Have I been gone so long that you don't remember who I am? Honestly.  
>  _ _\- JM_
> 
> _I suppose I'll need to remind you about your master. Did you miss me, pet?  
>  _ _\- JM_

My stomach lurched and I swallowed vomit. I immediately text him back.

 _More than you know_  
_\- NM_

The ellipses again. 

 

> _Good girl._  
>  _\- JM_

_Where are you?_  
_\- NM_

 

> _Be patient, pet._  
>  _\- JM_

_You made this hard_  
_\- NM_  

 

> _I'll make it up to you. You've been a very good girl_  
>  _\- JM_
> 
> _Or were you?_  
>  _\- JM_

_What do you mean?_  
_\- NM_

I knew exactly what he meant and, if it was really Jim, he'd know that.

 

> _You're such a bad liar. I'll simply say that when the Master's away, my cats will play. And you, little kitten, have been playing with my tiger, haven't you?_  
>  _\- JM_

Sebastian jiggled his leg, his arms folded tightly against his chest. He let out a breath. "Fuck it." He opened the sunroof halfway. I'd never seen him light a cigarette so fast. He took a long drag and held it out to me, smoke billowing from his nose. I declined. 

 

> _You've been a naughty, naughty little girl_  
>  _\- JM_

_I was upset. I'm sorry. It happened twice. I thought..idk_  
_\- NM_  

 

> _That I was dead. I'm alive. You fucked Sebastian._  
>  _It's alright, I expected you to_  
>  _Did you like it?_  
>  _\- JM_

_Not as much as I like it with you_  
_\- NM_

 

> _Perfect. No harm done. Now go home. I'll be sending Seb directions about when to bring you to me_  
>  _\- JM_
> 
> _Oh, I'll need the riding crop when I return. Naughty little girls get naughty little punishments. And you've been incredibly wicked. I might need Seb's help for this one_  
>  _\- JM_

_Like you'd let him join in._  
_\- NM_  

 

> _You know, pet, I've had quite a lot of time to think. How would you feel about including Sebastian more often?_  
>  _\- JM_

_Sex? Or everything_  
_\- NM_  

 

> _We already include him in practically everything. Sex and anything else he's left out of I suppose. We both know we need him. We'll discuss this more later, but I expect an answer when we do_  
>  _\- JM_

I smiled and typed a reply.

 

> _;)_  
>  _\- JM_

"Does he know?" Sebastian tapped a bit of ash off the end of his cigarette.

I looked up from my phone. "I'm not sure how, but yes. He knows about us."

"I take it he's pissed."

"Actually, he's still on about us all being an item."

Sebastian nodded silently. After two more drags, he put it out. "Would it be so bad?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Then again, I'm also not so sure."

"I agree."

I shrugged. "We have some time to think on it. He'll be texting you about when we'll reunite."

"You know it might not be him," said Seb. "I don't want you getting your hopes up."

"I know."

Sebastian's phone vibrated in his chest pocket. He reached into his suit, pulled it out, and scoffed with a shake of his head. "That bastard."

Before I could ask him what it was, he held out his phone. It was an image of James in his boxers with his lips pouted and his finger between his teeth in the corner of his mouth. Behind him was a mirror showing the intact back of his head. On the counter beside him was a newspaper from this morning. Laughter bubbled up my throat and came out as a half sob. I covered my mouth to suppress a grin. "How's that for proof?"

"His text?  _Back from the 'dead', and clearly not a fairy tale_. Cheeky fucker. I ought to smack him when I see him for pulling something like that on us. " Seb sat back against the seat. "We gave him a funeral, mourned him...proper dick." 

"Sebastian."

"Yeah?"

"He's back." 

He matched my smile and gave a nod. "That he is." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the block quotes made it a bit easier to read. Not sure how I feel about it, but the text correspondence had to be done.


End file.
